Maybe I'm Confused
by Hisashi Loves Yelen
Summary: A fic aiming to unravel the mystery that is Rukawa Kaede. Chapter 13 up. [On-going]
1. I Don't Give A Damn

Disclaimer: Don't own Slam Dunk. Not even the subtitled VCDs. 

Summary: I don't know. This came about on a whim and it resembles another fic here (sorry to the author if she's reading) but I felt like writing it so here it is. Wanted to make it a Rukawa and Mitsui friendship kind of thing (don't ask why, I don't know either) but it's kind of hard. I don't know. We'll see. This is not going to be all humour though (assuming people will find it funny 'cause I don't do humour). There's gonna be some heavy stuff. I haven't figured out what yet, but I will.   


* * *

Chapter One: I Don't Give A Damn

I'm dreaming. Probably snoring. I don't know. But I'm running after a pretty butterfly that shines with glitter in shades of yellow through a vast spread of grass up to my waist that tickles me when I run. There is something about this butterfly. I don't know what. But it doesn't matter because, oh, I'm catching up! I'm grasping air now, and it's embarrassing how I cannot catch a butterfly when I catch basketballs so deftly with these awesome hands. 

Shit. I see a cliff before me. Somehow, the green has become grey. So has the butterfly. It's become a moth. A moth! What happened to my sweet, wonderful dream?! I was running pretty fast and I carry incredible momentum with me, so when I try to stop, I can't. I fall over the edge and... 

*thud* 

...something hits me in the arse. And it really, really hurts. 

"Kuso," I mutter. When I look around me, I don't see anything sinister or dark. The moth is gone. So is the cliff. They are replaced by many pairs of eyes, all staring at me. I spot one particularly angry one and...oh. I am in class. 

"Rukawa Kaede," the stupid teacher bark. "Care to share with us your very intriguing dream?" 

Some students snigger. Others remain silent. A few girls gasp, in shock or something like that, it doesn't matter to me. They are probably thinking what an injustice it is that the teacher is picking on me. Hell, they are probably those idiots who stake out the gym before practice and screech like slaughtered chickens in my face. Man, they are irritating. 

I don't answer. I roll my eyes. I get up from the floor, brushing away a helping hand and settling back into my chair. Immediately I feel a sore in my butt. Oh, just great, I had to fall on my arse, of all places. How did I ever achieve such a feat anyway? Normal people fall sideways and land on their arms or their thighs. I don't know how I landed on my butt. 

But whatever. I, Rukawa Kaede, do not give the slightest shit. I lean back in my chair and cross my legs. I want to try to stay awake this time, instead of falling asleep as usual, because apparently, my grades have slipped, although I didn't know it was high in the first place, and if I don't show signs that I'm making an effort in class, the school will take me off the basketball team. And that cannot happen. 

Actually, about the grades, I think they have slipped even more, as in I'm going from an F to a U. U for under grade. 

That is pretty funny. I can't be bothered to laugh. 

"Rukawa Kaede!" The teacher is suddenly in front of me, glaring in my face. I suppose he expects me to be frightened. Honestly, who can get frightened by that dough face? He has holes everywhere and he's balding, and he looks a total joke. He should just retire before he burns out and makes a fool out of himself. Oh wait, he's already accomplished that. 

Okay, I will answer the poor sod. I grunt. 

"Do you think you can fall asleep in class anytime you want?" he booms. Man, his voice is noise to the ears. I fear my eardrums may burst. 

"This is Mathematics! It is not an easy subject! Do you think you're _good_ at it? Do you think you can pass without paying any attention to my lessons? Huh? Answer me!" 

"Do a'hou." 

That was a Freudian slip. I didn't mean to say it. After that crazy dream my mouth seems to have a mind of its own. Or rather, I seem to have a mind of my own. Um, that doesn't make sense. Nevermind. 

The teacher's face is almost as red as that baka Sakuragi's whenever I make a dunk. I can even swear that I saw a vein pop in the poor teacher's forehead. 

"_RUKAWA KAEDE!" _Now he is booming for real. His loud, rough voice almost shattered the windows. And they are made of plastic. 

"Is that the way to talk to your sensei? Is that respect? You are such a rude, cocky young man! You don't even deserve a place in this school! You are..." 

Blah blah bliddy blah. I have heard this tune a million times before, and it's really beginning to bore me. I feel my eyelids closing again. This teacher is so boring that there isn't any distinction between him being angry and him being not angry. Both eventually meet at the same point, like two non-parallel lines: He is boring, and one day he'd probably bore himself to death. 

"...detention after school!" 

What else is new? 

I can answer that question, actually. I'm making an effort to pay attention to this raving lunatic's boring lesson on differentiation. He is explaining how the process works, what a differentiated expression represents, stupid stuff that even a child knows. Man, what a waste of my time. I should be out practicing my game to make it top in the entire country. It's such a drag to sit through lessons about things you already know. 

"Now, differentiate _2x-1,_" he drones. "What do you get?"   


Oh, fucking please. This is child's play. This is so amazingly easy. This is 1+1=2. What kind of moron wouldn't know the answer? 

"Hideo?" 

"Um. 1?" 

I roll my eyes. The answer is 2, you stupid, stupid baka. 

This school is _so _gonna be the death of me.   


*****   


"Rukawa-kun!" 

"Ahhhhhhhh! Rukawa-kun! He's so kawaii!" 

"Oh my god, it's him! Oh my god, he just walked past me! Oh my god, he smells sooooooo good!" 

Oh my god, can you _be_ any more annoying? I smell like a frigging garbage can, for crying out loud. I've been sweating for the entire lunch period as it's so damn hot in here. What were the school administration thinking when they decided not to install air-conditioners in this place? It's like hell, only a few hundred degree celsius hotter. 

I sit down at an unoccupied table by myself and take out my food. It comes in a brown paper bag and its contents never fail to be squashed by lunch. I look inside. An apple. A slice of bread. A packet of juice. 

How appetizing. I take out the apple and bite into it anyway. I hear a girl calling -- squealing -- my name but I ignore her. I ignore everybody. 

Apparently people are too stupid to get my 'I don't want any of you low-lives near me so leave me the hell alone or you'll have definite hell to pay' glares, because someone actually sits down in front of me. Who the hell is this idiot? I don't want company! 

"Hey Rukawa, why so lonely?" 

Darn. It's Mitsui. What the hell? Does he want something from me? Is he here to convey a message about practice? Or wait...is he gay and hitting on me? 

"Are you gay?" 

Mitsui's expression immediately changes. He glowers at me and looks ready to strangle me. 

"I'd strangle you, you idiot, but I wouldn't because I promised Anzai-sensei that I wouldn't fight, so consider yourself lucky." 

I roll my eyes. Oh, how sweet. He promised our coach that he wouldn't fight and thus he is going to spare my life! Oh, how glorious, how chivalrous, how very honourable! I just want to puke. 

I ignore Mitsui and continue eating my apple. It's sour and its flesh is hard to swallow. My throat hurts every time I force it down. 

Mitsui is still here. What does he _want_? 

I shoot him my 'leave me alone you baka you are invading my privacy do you want to me drool on you do a'hou' glare. It's my killer eye. It always works when I use it on girls who try to follow me into the bathroom. 

"What do you want?" I say coldly. 

Mitsui shrugs. "Just to hang out." 

_Is he insane? Or just plain freaking STUPID? _What the hell is wrong with him today? Why is he acting so friendly all of a sudden? Shakespeare could not have said it better when he made Julius Caesar say, "What, is this fellow mad?" 

"Don't look at me like that," Mitsui says defensively. "I don't have any hidden motives. I just thought that, as teammates, we should have a better understanding of each other so that we can play better." 

I stare at him. This person looks like Mitsui. He sounds like Mitsui. He even smirks like Mitsui. But it is not Mitsui. This...person before me must be his evil twin brother sent to Shohoku to torture me. That, or he's been abducted by aliens like Johnny Depp in that crap movie 'The Astronaut's Wife' and isn't himself anymore. Or maybe he's suffering from high fever and the heat has damaged his brains. 

I stand up and grab my lunch. "Get lost," I say to him and walk out of the cafeteria.   


*****   


I need a moment of peace and quiet. The classroom was like a zoo before because the Physics teacher is ill and the substitute is a total weakling without a spine. Some joker in my class suggested that the class kept quiet for about ten minutes and then simultaneously drop all their Physics books onto the floor when the ten minutes are up. They did that, and the pathetic sub actually jumped. As in, her feet were off the floor and her body was suspended in mid-air for about half a nanosecond. The class found it funny and they roared with laughter. They sounded like gorillas in a zoo. 

I'm not referring to Captain Akagi. Of course. 

I'm at detention. Ah yes, peace and quiet, and nap time. I'd miss an hour of basketball practice but I'll make up for it by practicing at night, so it's all good. 

I ignore the teacher-in-charge who calls out my name and take my seat at the last row of the room. There are a few people around but they are not talking. I don't think they know each other. 

I am preparing myself for sleep when all of a sudden the door fly open with a loud 'bang'. I look up, and see Sakuragi and his friends barging into the room. Sakuragi, as per usual, is off about what a genius he is, yada yada yada, while his friends are looking amused. 

I groan inwardly. Fantastic. With Sakuragi the incessant loud-mouth around, there is no way I can get any sleep, not when he's going to shove that ugly mug in my face and yell egoistic crap at me, under the illusion that I care about whatever he has to say. 

Sure enough, he spots me. 

"Kitsune!" he yells. Oh my god, I think a ear drum just popped. Sakuragi's loud, obnoxious voice is so much worse than Boring Mathematics Teacher's. He sounds like a crow. 

He scurries over and shoves his ugly mug in my face. I ignore him and look away. 

"Oi! Kitsune! Are you listening to me?" 

"Were you talking?" 

"Teme Rukawa! Don't be bossy just because you scored more points than me in the last game! I will beat you the next time. Mark my words!" 

The only thing I'd be marking is his grave. Besides, I didn't know I was challenging him. 

"Do a'hou." 

His face turns red, even redder than that ridiculous red hair, however that's possible. He grits his teeth and growls, ready to head-butt me but Yohei holds him back. 

"Ah, Hanamichi, calm down," he says. "The sensei's looking at you." 

"Besides," Takamiya cheerfully pipes up. "You wouldn't want to be thrown out of _detention_ too, now would you?" He snickers. 

"What did you say?!" 

"You were thrown out of five consecutive games! You don't want to add detention to your record of being thrown out. Trust me, Haruko wouldn't be impressed!" 

"You leave Haruko-san out of this, you shit! Now you take back what you said about this super tensai or you'll regret it!" 

"Tensai, my ass! More like the king of fouls!" 

On and on it goes. He is actually chasing his friend around the room. The poor teacher-in-charge, another dumb weakling, is crying at them to stop but they don't listen. Of course they don't. 

Sakuragi tries to head-butt Takamiya, who shoots off before Sakuragi made contact. Sakuragi ends up falling face-first onto the ground. 

Congratulations, do a'hou. You have just succeeded in making yourself uglier than ever. 

* * *

A/N: It too pains me to write that Hana is ugly. He isn't. He's number three on my 'hot SD characters' list, third to Mitsui (#1) and Maki. 

A/N 2: The Shakespeare quote does not belong to me. It's from Julius Caesar. Act Three. In response to Artemidorous (sp). It's quite ironic as Caesar is the mad one because he dies in the end when he chooses to ignore Artie's letter of warning... Um, yes. 

A/N 3: Please excuse any grammatical mistakes. I'm not perfect and I'm too lazy to edit. If you see an out of place past tense, please change it to the present mentally. 

A/N 4: Pardon too any misuse of Japanese words. I really don't know anything about the language. I'm just being a poseur. 

A/N 5: Review. Gracias. 


	2. Something Amiss

Disclaimer: See Chapter One.   
  
Warning: This chapter is not funny. At all.   


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Chapter Two: Something Amiss

Rukawa Kaede steals the ball from Some Year One Dude! He aims! He shoots! He SCORES! The crowd goes WILD! It's three points for Shohoku! 

Now Rukawa Kaede is flying through the air! He shoots towards the ring with the ball in his hand! He slams the ball into the hoop! It's a SLAM DUNK! 

Rukawa Kaede is running again! He is sprinting towards the basket, ready for a fantastic lay-up! Oh look, he's jumping! He's concentrating! He's about to lay the ball in! He - 

*crash* 

- bangs into a brick wall! 

"Ouch," I mutter. I rub my forehead. Damn, it really hurts. What did I run into anyway? I was all ready to make that lay-up... 

"STUPID KITSUNE!" 

I know that voice. It's none other than... 

"How dare you bang into this tensai! Watch where you're going, baka!" 

O-kay. So it's my fault that I attempted a lay-up and he ran into my path. How completely dense is he? Did he honestly think he could've blocked that shot? Him, of all people? I mean if it were Captain Akagi maybe it's another story, but we're talking about the idiotic Hanamichi here. He-who-cannot-shoot-free-throws-and-bangs-into-the-backboard-whenever-he-attempts-a-dunk Hanamichi. Puh-leese. 

"Do a'hou. You were in my way." 

That red face again. How many times do I have to look at his crimson mug in a day? He looks like an overripe tomato. 

I glower at Sakuragi and tune his words out. I know what they are anyway. He says the same things all the time: Stupid Rukawa, I am a genius, you are an amateur, you suck, you idiot, blah blah blah. Luckily, Captain Akagi comes along and gives Sakuragi a well-executed punch on the head. At least he's out of my face for now. 

Let's see. I've done dunks, three-pointers and lay-ups. I've stolen about fifty balls so far and I've dished out fifteen assists. I've also grabbed a few rebounds, maybe about twenty. Still, there's something missing. I don't know what. I've asserted myself so much and it still doesn't seem to be enough. I'm sweating buckets, I'm panting (although Mitsui is wheezing and he looks like he's about to die, poor guy who tried to hit on me), and I'm all fired up but I'm still not satisfied. 

Come to think of it, I've never really been satisfied, not even when we won Shoyo by two points after a tough fight. 

I force myself not think about it and focus on practice. Yes, that is what I need. Practice, practice and practice. Basketball is my life. I've been playing for as long as I can remember and I don't know any other way. I _have_ to excel. 

"Rukawa, heads up!" 

I look up, and see the orange sphere whizzing in my direction. I catch it easily, dribble it past Miyagi and Kogure, leap into the air with a twist and slam the ball into the basket. Score. 

"AHHH! RUKAWA-KUN!" 

"Aishiteru Rukawa-kun!" 

"Nice, Rukawa!" 

"Go, Rukawa-kun!" 

That was Captain Akagi's sister, the girl Hanamichi is so obsessed with. Hmm, what's her name again? Ha-something or other, maybe Haliko? Well, whatever. 

"All right, practice is over. Same time tomorrow, don't be late." 

Huh? Over? Has it been two hours already? Somehow, I no longer have a concept of time when it's me and basketball. Next time, I'd wear a watch. 

"Hey, Rukawa." It's Captain Akagi. I should answer him, considering he's the captain. 

"Yeah?" 

He gives me a smile. "You did well today." 

I look blankly at him and nod, although I know what he said isn't true.   


*****   


I wanted to stay for more practice but I remember that my mother wants me home tonight. I tried to get out of it, but she told me, very firmly before I left for school, that she wanted to talk to me. I just know it's not going to be good. I know from experience that the words 'we have to talk' inevitably come with things you don't want to hear, things that are bad, things that will break your heart. I know it all too well. 

My mother is waiting for me in the living room when I reach home. The non-descript, two-roomed apartment is messy as usual. Mom is sitting on one of the worn-out couches we got from a dumpster that has obviously seen better days. She's staring into space, lost in thought. 

I look at her now, and I feel something clenching my throat in a tight vice. Her present self is merely a shadow of who she used to be, of the life she once had. Her hair is in a mess, her skin pasty and pale and sickly, like a cancer patient's. She's brought so much sadness into this tiny amount of space that I cannot escape. And I really, really don't need any of this. 

She hasn't noticed that I'm home. Maybe I can elude her if I creep quietly into my room. Maybe I can get out of this talk that she wants to have with me, whatever it is. 

Maybe Rukawa Kaede is a real coward and doesn't deserve to live. Idiot, she's your mother. She's the woman who gave birth to you after 12 hours of painful labour and brought your sorry ass screaming and kicking into this screwed up world. I think you owe her at least a talk. 

Damn my conscience. I can never escape that either. 

So I find myself sitting tentatively opposite my mother, after clearing away the empty beer cans that were on the chair. I don't know what to do with myself. Should I call her to let her know I'm here? Or should I wait and let her finish thinking whatever it is she's lost in? 

"Oh Kaede, you're home," she says suddenly. 

So. She's finally snapped out of her reverie. 

I clear my throat. "Yeah," I mumble. I wait for her to start her 'talk', but she doesn't say anything and simply looks at me. The expression on her face is unbearable. I look away. 

I clear my throat again. "Um, you wanted to talk to me?" 

My mother sighs. It's a long, drawn-out one, battered and torn. It sounds sadder than anything I've ever heard in my life. 

"Kaede, I received a call from your principal. He said you're not doing well in school." 

I curse silently. This is about school. Great, just great. Exactly what I need. 

"He said you're always sleeping in class," she continues. "Your grades have slipped, haven't they? Kaede, talk to me. Why aren't you doing well in school? You're such a bright child. Tell me what's going on." 

As if she doesn't know. God, for heaven's sake _Mother, _just listen to yourself talk! I'm not doing well in school, but at least I'm doing better than you. I'm dealing better than you. I'm not the one moping around the house half-dead every day, sitting by the phone waiting for it to ring and drinking god knows how many cans of beer a day. You don't need to hear from me to know what's going on, _Mother_, because you know it yourself. You are proof of all that is wrong with our lives. 

I think all that, but I say none of it. "I'll work on it," I mutter in reply. 

She doesn't believe me. "It's basketball, isn't it. It's taking up too much of your time. Maybe you need to quit." 

"No." 

"Kaede, don't be stubborn. Grades are important. You need to graduate from high school so that you can get a decent job when you grow up. You wouldn't want to be uneducated and jobless. I think you should quit the team to spend more time on your school work." 

I stand up. I have enough. 

"Basketball is my life and I'm not quitting," I say coldly. "And maybe you should take your own advice and stop preaching at me." 

I walk into my room without waiting for a reply and slam the door shut. I throw myself down onto my bed. The rusted springs squeak under my weight. 

The sound of muffled sniffing drifts steadily into my room. I can hear it loud and clear. 

My mother is crying.   


*****   


Midnight. I'm wide awake. I can't get to sleep, no matter how hard I try. Well, isn't this a first? Rukawa Kaede is unable to sleep when he usually sleeps like a dead duck. 

I suppose this is what most people call 'guilt'. But I wouldn't know. 

Okay. I will try to go to sleep again. If I don't, I'd be sleeping in class, and I can't afford that luxury anymore, not if I want to retain my sanity and my number one drive in life. It is, of course, to play basketball. 

I try counting sheep. One sheep, two sheep, three sheep, four sheep... 

This is dumb. I count basketballs instead. 

One Jordan dunk, two O'Neal missed free-throws, three points by Stojakovic, four consecutive Stackhouse lay-ups, five Rukawa rebounds... 

...a hundred points for Shohoku...none for Kaede... 

* * *

A/N: I did say it's going to get heavy. 

Devoted2Mitsui: Isn't Mitsui just the greatest? I love everything about him, from his shadowy past to his fantastic knee guard. Hehehe. Maybe you'd want to read my other fic, since it's about Mitsui, but it's up to you. Thanks for the review. 

Leviathan: The humour is kinda subtle. People usually don't get my sense of humour though, so I'm not surprised. Besides, I don't do humour very well. Thanks for the review. :) 

Emerald Space2: Glad you found it funny. :) Thanks for the review too. (I keep repeating that damn sentence but how else to say it?!) 

To everyone else who's left me reviews, thanks sooooo much. Really. I appreciate it. I'm too tired and lazy to do the thing I did above so this will do. Sorry. 

I'm writing this and the other fic I have at the same time. Let's see how long it's going to be before I develop a split personality. I'm already bordering on schizophrenia anyway. 

PS: Does anyone know where I can get Japanese-dialogue Chinese/English subtitles SD DVD/VCD/VHS/anything in Singapore? Do they even exist? All I've found thus far are the ones dubbed in Chinese. No point if the show is dubbed. I don't get to hear Hana's mad laughter and Mitsui's sexy voice and Rukawa's "do a'hou". 


	3. Sucks To Be Me

Disclaimer: Slam Dunk belongs to me. Which is why I'm still stuck in Singapore, slogging through its shitty education system and waiting for my chance to jet to New York. Yep. Totally. 

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Chapter Three: Sucks To Be Me

It's a brand new day. It's a brand new, beautiful day. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and I'm early for school. Correction, I'm _up_ early for school and all ready to go. I'm not actually there yet. What kind of freak would be in school at 6.30 a.m.? 

I tiptoe out of my room and check for any signs of life in the apartment. I detect none, unsurprisingly. Mother didn't prepare lunch for me today. The usual brown paper bag isn't on the Dumpster couch, where I usually find it every morning before I go to school. 

Nevermind. I'm glad she isn't up anyway, as it means I don't have to face her, which means I can avoid a confrontation with her. Maybe I'll even stay out tonight and not come home. 

I hop onto my beloved bicycle and stuff my Walkman earphones into place. I check the tape inside. Nirvana's _Nevermind_. Wonderful. I blast the music as loud as my Walkman allows and start to peddle my way to school. 

I'll share a secret right now. It's my deepest and most personal secret. Nobody knows about it, and I mean _nobody_. Not my mother, not my...well, not my mother. 

So here's the secret: I blast my rock music into my ears every morning and just about anytime to prevent myself from falling asleep. Yes, it's true. That is why I listen to loud, jarring music all the time. If you wonder why I'm not deaf yet, it's because I have been doing it since young, when I used to fall asleep in the middle of a dangerous activity, like, oh, mountain climbing. I'm not kidding. When I was about nine my parents took me to this great place in some country in the world to scale a mountain (as amateurs, of course). I don't remember much details, but one thing that really sticks out in my mind is that I fell asleep halfway up towards the end point. I don't know how. I just did. My parents freaked and according to my mother, I would've fallen off the mountain and died if Daddy Dearest weren't there to catch me and slap me awake. 

Anyway. Because I've been doing the 'blast music' thing for so long, I'm used to it. Which means I'm immured to it. Which means I continue to fall asleep at the most unsuitable times. Which means I'm a danger to myself and to others. Which means I should be locked up in an asylum for the rest of my life. 

You see, I'm not exaggerating. I'm dozing at my bike while Kurt Cobain screams out the chorus of "Smells Like Teen Spirit", and I'm dreaming my butterfly/moth dream again. It's pretty much the same thing, except I'm not running through a nice grassy field. I'm running through a street somewhere in Kanagawa and the butterfly is still far away. Instead of a cliff I'm met with a slope. 

And then I feel my stomach lurch. It's flown out of my body, dropped to the bottom of the Earth and I'm now stomach-less and... 

...falling off my bike as I careen down the slope. My sleepy eyes fly open. God_dammit_, there is a kid in front of me. Shit! I manage to steady myself by sitting on only one butt cheek. The other is hanging off the bike seater. It's a really awkward position. I'm sort of halfway falling off the stupid vehicle and my right arse cheek is painful as hell. To add to that horrible misery, my left foot is off the pedal and it's hovering dangerously close to the ground. If there is contact between foot and ground, I may sprain my ankle. 

I swear, it's not fun being me. 

The kid screams. I'm still charging towards him. Quickly, I squeeze the brakes as hard as I possibly can and to my relief, the bike is slowing. But fate, or whatever, must hate me, because even though I just saved a kid's worthless life, I have to damage my own. The bike teeters left and right, left and right, and, taking advantage of my panic and my loss at what to do, it finally decides to go left. 

My eyes widen as I take in what I'm in for. My brains freeze. My body stops working. All I can do is scream silently in horror as my piece of shit bicycle hauls me into a dirty, smelly drain. 

It wouldn't be that bad if my bike suffered with me. But it's not. It's lying by the road side, and I can swear I just saw it smirk at me. 

I groan softly out loud. I landed pretty hard on -- you guessed it -- my poor arse and my back is sore. To make things worse, I'm sitting in the wet part, not the dry. I want to get up but I'm so tired and I'm aching all over. This must be karma at work. This must be my retribution for making my mother cry and for treating school like the joke that it is. Dear Buddha, if you get me through this mess, I promise I'd be a good boy forever. I'd convert like Mitsui did. I wouldn't bad-mouth anyone ever again. I'd ignore that baka...um, excuse me, let's try again. I'd ignore that genius Sakuragi's insults and pass him the ball all the time. I'd be grateful to everybody and everything and I'd never, ever utter another complaint for as long as I shall live. 

My god, do they ever clean the drains? And what's that I'm seeing floating towards me? It looks like part of a surgical glove. I take a closer look. I poke it. I pick it up and hold it against the sunlight. 

Oh, fucking shit. It's a used condom. 

There isn't a bloody Buddha.   


*****   


Despite having my bottom covered in raw sewage water, I went to school anyway. Turned out I woke up early for nothing. I was late. 

The plus side to all this is, I'm in school smelling like crap and I'm sure I look absolutely horrendous. Perhaps those morons who're constantly following me would see me as I am -- an unkempt, disgusting boy -- and finally leave me the hell alone. 

"Rukawa-kun! What happened to you? Are you hurt? Do you need help? Do you want me to escort you to the infirmary?" 

"Oh my god, Kaede-kun! My poor handsome prince! Please say you're all right!" 

Guess I was wrong. 

Ignoring the voices, I head for class. I think I'm about thirty minutes late for the first lesson, which is Physics, I think. Whatever. Hopefully, if I sneak in really discreetly, the teacher wouldn't even notice me... 

Stupid Kaede, who are you kidding? You're tall as a giraffe. People would notice you no matter how 'discreet' you try to be. 

True enough, the first thing that greets me when I step into the classroom is the Physics teacher's deadly glare. This guy is a tad more intimidating than Boring Mathematics Teacher. It's the moustache. It makes him look like Adolf Hitler. 

Still, I don't really care what he'd do to me. After all, I've fallen in a dirty and smelly drain and touched a used condom. Nothing can ever scare me again. 

"Rukawa, you're late." 

Tell me something I don't know. I cock an eyebrow and walk to my seat, last row, by the window where I can conveniently stare out of. As soon as I sit I feel a wave of sleepiness seize me by horns, and thinking of yesterday's incident makes me feel like an enraged bull in Spanish bull fighting. I cannot sleep. I have to stay awake. Goddammit. 

The teacher chose to give up on lecturing me, probably because he knows I treat his words like the passing wind. Now he's lecturing about some light ray thing. 

"As a light ray passes from a less dense medium to a denser medium, it refracts and bends towards the normal. Similarly, when it goes out of that medium, it refracts again and bends away from the normal..." 

Zzzzzzzz. Next thing he'd say is that the sine of the incident angle divided by the sine of the refracted angle gives us the refractive index _n_ of the medium. 

"The sine of the incident angle divided by the sine of the refracted angle gives you the refractive index _n_ of the medium..." 

What did I tell you? 

I am so, so bored, and my butt is still wet. I should've gone home to change my pants but it didn't occur to me. Well, then again, going home means facing the maternal figure and I don't really want to deal with that right now. Or anytime between now and many oeons later. 

"Rukawa Kaede!" 

Darn, Physics Teacher is glaring at me again. What did I do wrong? Last I checked, I wasn't sleeping. I'm still not sleeping. Must I _always_ get into trouble at school, even when I wasn't even doing anything? 

Me being me, I don't answer and simply stare back at him. His eyelid is twitching furiously, like it's going to snap anytime soon. 

The mental image of an eyelid-less Physics teacher is almost funny enough to make me laugh. But I don't. 

"Rukawa Kaede!" he repeats. "Did you hear the question I asked you?" 

So, that's it. He asked me a question and I didn't answer. Che. And I thought it was something major. 

"No." 

He glares at me as though I were worse as a human being than a crazed serial killer and spits out through gritted teeth, "What. Is. The. Critical. Angle. _C_?" 

Sine inverse of one divided by the refractive index _n_. 

I shrug and pretend not to know the answer. Physics Teacher sighs in resignation and answers it himself. 

"Sine inverse of one divided by the refractive index _n. _I already went through this. Please pay attention in class." 

Do a'hou. You should've asked me nicely. Maybe then I'd answer your ridiculously easy question.   


*****   


Not many people know this about me. I tested my IQ once and I obtained a score of 135. I was eleven. It doesn't put me on the genius level, but apparently I'm above other people when it comes to intelligence. 

My teachers will probably haemorrhage at that intriguing piece of information. I don't blame them. I fail tests as easily as I make dunks. It wasn't like this before, but after everything my mother and I had gone through, I simply don't give a damn anymore. Just like the French says, _Quel est le point?_

I'm about to open the cafeteria door when it suddenly flies open and hits me in the face. Kuso. This is so not my lucky day. 

I rub my nose gingerly, checking for broken bones but I felt none. Then I turn my attention to the extremely stupid and irritating baka who hit me in the bloody face, and see yet another blond-haired, violet-eyed girl staring at me in shock. 

I glare at her. My goodness, how many German-Spanish-French-American-Chinese-Indian-Mexican-Irish-Malay-Italian-Portugese-Arab-whatever Japanese do we need in this school anyway? They are everywhere and they are mostly girls, and it's ridiculous. I don't have a problem with mixed bloods, as I like to call them, but Shohoku seems to have the highest number of them among all high schools in Kanagawa. 

This particular mixed blood is blubbering an apology. 

"Oh my god, Rukawa-kun, I'm so so so so so so so SORRY! I didn't know you were coming. Did I hurt you badly? Please forgive me Rukawa-kun!" 

Stop calling me 'Rukawa-kun'. And stop looking at me like I'm some hot-shot rock star. Can't you smell the sewage on my butt? Why can't you treat me like the plague for once? What have I ever done to deserve this shit? 

The stupid mixed blood tries to touch me to do god-knows-what, but I slap her hand away in annoyance. 

"Get out of my way." 

I push past her, ignoring the hurt that flashes across her face and join the crowd in the cafeteria. Hopefully, I can become inconspicious amongst all the people. I can't stand being yammered at all the time. 

"Eeeeeee! It's Rukawa-kun! Let's ask him to join our table!" 

Shit. Not again. I give up finding for an empty table and walk towards where I've just came from. I sense movement behind me. I turn to look. 

Big mistake. A few girls are _running_ towards me wearing hopeful expressions on their faces. 

"Rukawa-kun! Do you want to have lunch with us?" 

Are you kidding? Do I look like want to take a trip to hell wearing ten layers of winter coat with a wool hat pulled over my face and with Britney Spears blasting in my ears? Do I look like I particularly feel like lying down in the middle of a busy road, letting millions of cars making me roadkill? Do I look like I want company? Baka! 

"Leave me alone." 

With that, I walk out of the cafeteria, turning my back on those girls and their lunch offer.   


*****   


So here I am now, sitting by myself under a tree facing the school track, lunch-less and company-less. All I have for company is Nirvana, a few ants crawling around me and the tree I'm sitting under. 

I wonder how long it would be before I start talking to the tree and the ants. 

Oh wait, I forgot. I don't talk. 

* * *

  
  
All right, there's the third chapter. Perhaps the condom thing was a little over the top but I couldn't think of anything else disgusting for him to touch. Sorry, Kaede darling. 

Also, I apologise if I offended anyone with the 'there's no bloody Buddha' line. It was to suit the story. I am not against any religion, etc, and neither is Rukawa (um, like I'd know), so um, accept my apology. Sorry again. 

Thanks for all the reviews. I'm going through a tough time now so I can't be bothered to reply personally. Sorry. To answer sLL though, you'll know where they get their income really soon. 

For anyone who doesn't know: _Quel est le point _means what is the point. 


	4. Poor Rukawa

Usual disclaimers apply.   


* * *

Chapter Four: Poor Rukawa

Rukawa Kaede's interview with himself

Interviewer: Baka Rukawa, why are you so cold and unfeeling towards everyone, including your own mother? 

RK: Baka interviewer, mind your own business. 

Interviewer: But this is an _interview_! I ask you questions and you answer. That's how it works! 

RK: Do a'hou. Nobody asked you to interview me. 

Interviewer: On the contrary, Mr Rukawa*, you asked me to. 

RK: I didn't know I was that bored. 

Interviewer: Yes, you are. You're all by yourself in class, waiting for it to end because you can't sleep. You thought this would be fun. 

RK (snort): Fun? Me? Fun? Get out of here. 

Interviewer: Well, I can't. I'm in your head am I not? 

RK: Whatever. 

Interviewer: I take that as a 'you may proceed'. So, why are you so cold towards everyone? Is it because of any past history? 

RK (disgusted): Oh please. What a stupid question. Like you don't know the answer. 

Interviewer: I'd rather hear it from you. Admitting to a problem is the first step towards solving it! 

RK: I don't have a problem. You do. 

Interviewer: If I have a problem, so do you. I am you and you are me, don't you remember? 

RK: Kuso. 

Interviewer: So, is it because of any past history? 

RK: I don't want to talk about it. Shut up now. 

Interviewer: You don't want to talk about it, eh? How is keeping quiet 'dealing better' than drinking beer? 

RK: Hey, at least I'm not drunk practically every night. At least I'm keeping myself healthy. 

Interviewer: Yes, physically, but what about _mentally_? 

RK: I never knew I was this annoying. 

Interviewer: Ah, but you are. You were from the first day you were born. Why else do you think Daddy left you? 

RK: FUCK YOU. JUST SHUT UP. 

Interviewer: Aww, poor little Rukawa, still reeling from the two-year-old blow, eh? What would your mother think? 

RK: Screw what my mother thinks. In fact, screw you. Butt out of my life. 

Interviewer: Idiot, I can't. I'm you. Remember? 

RK: (no reply) 

Interviewer: Come on, is it really so hard to admit that you _do_ need people? 

RK: I. Don't. Need. Anybody.   
  


*****   


I hate myself. I truly do. I am no good. I am scum. I treat people like dirt. I treat my own mother like dirt. The only thing I'm good at is basketball. Then again, I'm not even _that_ good. I've missed about five lay-ups today and blanked on a few rebounds. In simpler terms, I'm playing like shit. And I'm not just being self-critical. It's true. Captain Akagi is looking at me with this look on his face, like he expects me to faint anytime soon. Even Sakuragi is keeping his arrogance to himself. Surprise surprise. 

This is unacceptable. I have to make it work. Yasuda passes me a ball, and I decide to use this chance to get back in shape. 

I fix my eyes on the hoop and crouch like a panther waiting to pounce on its prey. I pass the ball rhythmically from my left hand to right, back and forth again, trying to decide on a course of action and preparing myself for whatever I decide on. 

Okay. I will do a dunk. And it would be a great one, making even Michael Jordan embarrassed. 

I dribble the ball with acute expertise, aiming for the basket, and when I'm a few metres away, I jump up, shoot through the air and hurl my body at the basket. I'm so close to the rim that I could stick my tongue out to lick it. I'm about to slam the ball into the hoop with every ounce of energy I have when suddenly, the ball slips out of my hand. It lands on the waxy floor of the gym with a few soft 'thud's and bounces away from me. 

Recovering quickly, I manage to fall on both feet and not on my poor arse. I realise that everyone is staring at me, shocked that I just missed a dunk. 

Rukawa Kaede, what is wrong with you? You were good at dunking. You were good at the game, maybe even still are, so why are you playing like crap? 

"Hey Rukawa, why are you playing like crap today?" 

I feel my blood boil at those words. It's okay if I insult myself. It's a different thing completely when another person does it. 

Darn that Mitsui. He has such a big mouth and he is so tactless. 

"Shut up." 

Mitsui rolls his eyes and walks away from me, taking aim at the three-point line. He shoots and scores. The gentle sound of ball against net echoes loudly in my ear, and I'm so damn annoyed, I think I could burst anytime. 

"Dammit," I hiss under my breath. "What the hell is wrong with me?" 

Somebody passes me a ball. I start to attempt a jumper, but I feel a hand clamping down on my shoulder. I turn around, and see Captain Akagi looking at me with concern in his eyes. 

"That's all for today. Go take a break. You're obviously worn out." 

"No. I'm fine." 

"Don't be stubborn. You're going to injure yourself before the game with Kainan if you go on like this." 

_That_ certainly works. The word 'injury' sends violent shudders through me, more so than anything else. Captain Akagi does have a point. I don't want to miss the game against Kainan. I'm _really _keen on beating the supposed best team in the prefecture. 

On the other hand, taking a break means conceding to defeat. Conceding to defeat means admitting I'm weak. In front of everybody. But then, for some reason, I'm really, really tired. I've never felt this worn out in a long time, and what's scary is that I didn't really play well today. I mean, my shots were like, 5 of 20 or something, I couldn't dunk and I couldn't grab rebounds. 

I guess Captain Akagi is right. I need a break. 

"Okay," I say to him. "I'll be ready for Kainan." 

He smiles, but I don't respond. I start to walk off the court but Captain Akagi stops me again. 

"Rukawa," he calls out and catches up with me. "Is anything wrong?" 

Yes, something is wrong. It's just none of anyone's business. 

"I haven't had lunch," I mutter. It's true. I skipped lunch when I was under that tree because I fell asleep, and because I couldn't be bothered to go back to the cafeteria and queue for food. I just didn't know it would affect my game so much. 

Captain Akagi looks at me as though I were a moron. "What were you thinking when you came in here without taking lunch? Don't you know that every meal is vital to an athlete?" 

"Yes, but I didn't know I would be this affected." 

He sighs as he takes in my expressionless and indifferent face. Then, something seems to strike him, as his face suddenly brightens. 

"Tell you what. When we're all done here a few of us will take you out for dinner, okay?" 

Oh my god. Did he say what I think he just said? Something about dinner and me and them? Taking out? For fun? Together? As friends? Wha--? 

When I don't answer, he goes on to say, "That is, if you don't have anything on at home." 

Shit, what am I supposed to do? Akagi, my captain, wants to take me out to dinner just because I was stupid enough to skip lunch. He's being so nice to me and I have to acknowledge that, don't I? I mean, that's how it works, isn't it? I mean, the whole human-to-human thing, when one person does something nice for another that person does something back to that other person to show his gratitude, or something like that, am I supposed to apply it here? 

But I haven't been in a social situation for so long. And I'm not sure I want to spend a few hours with the guys from the team, especially not if Sakuragi is going to be one of the 'few of us'. Then again, saying 'yes' naturally means prolonging going home and facing my mother. That doesn't sound too bad to me. 

"Fine. I'll go."   


*****   


I shuffle silently behind Akagi, Mitsui, Miyagi and Kogure after practice has ended. They are talking and laughing to themselves. Now, I don't know what in the world I've got myself into. This could be the most uncomfortable thing I'd ever have to sit through. I sigh quietly. I wish I didn't say 'yes'. 

It's too late to turn back though, for we're entering the restaurant. I do a double take as I realise we're going Italian tonight. God, what makes them think I have the money? Italian restaurants = expensive food = food I cannot afford. 

Wait. You idiot, they're paying, aren't they? 

"Hey." 

They turn around. Probably surprised that I can talk. 

"Is this a treat?" 

Silence. My four seniors stare back at me. Then, Mitsui bursts out laughing. 

"Ahahahahahaha! I love this guy, he's so funny! Ahahahahahaha!" 

I glower at him. "What's so funny?" 

"Ahahahahaha! You're the first person I've ever known who can ask a question like that so directly! Ahahahahaha!" 

"Do a'hou." 

"Hey, don't you 'do a'hou' me, I'm the one paying for your dinner. You don't want to offend the guy who's paying for you." 

So. They _are_ paying. Great. Now I don't have to worry about prices. 

"Okay. Let's eat." 

Without waiting for an answer, I saunter towards an empty table that is big enough to contain all of us and sit down. Immediately, I grab the menu and scan through it. 

Okay, what are all these? Cream-based? Tomato-based? Pasta? Pizza? Spaghetti? Non-spaghetti? And many other words that I cannot begin to pronounce? 

I'm about to consult somebody when I realise I'm alone at the table. I look up, and see the four of them standing by the door in shock. 

"Nani?" 

After what feels like a million years, Miyagi finally answers, "Rukawa...is that you?" 

That baka. What's that supposed to mean? 

"Stop being stupid. I'm hungry." 

They exchange looks. They look at me again. I roll my eyes and decide to ignore them, and go back to scrutinising the menu. 

Fine. So I don't really understand anything that's in the menu. So what? It's not like I've never tasted any fine cuisine before. My parents took me to France once when I was younger and I tasted actual French food. That was where I learnt to say, "_Quel est le point?_" Okay, so I spat my dinner out when I took a bite, but still. At least I know how a snail tastes like. 

Believe me though, you wouldn't want to know. 

Oh, here they come, my four beloved seniors. It's about time. Perhaps one of them can advice me on what to order. 

"What are you having?" 

Kogure, being the nice guy that he is, is the only one who bothers to answer; the other three are busy pouring over the menu, too intent to hear my question. 

"Pizza. Want to share?" 

"How big is the pizza?" 

"Um, it depends. If you want to share I'll order a large, if not then..." 

"How many slices?" 

"I think ten. Why?" 

Hmm. Ten. Is it enough? I feel so hungry that I could eat the whole restaurant down and go for a horse after that. Should I take up on Kogure's offer? Or should I just order something else and have it all to myself? 

"Hey, Rukawa? You can order more food later if you're still hungry." 

All of a sudden I feel like jumping up and kissing Kogure on the cheek. He is such a saint. I don't know what I'd do without him around. I mean, Akagi, Miyagi and Mitsui are _still _looking through the menu. And now, they are discussing with each other what to get. They are totally oblivious to my and Kogure's exchange. Those pigs. 

"Okay. I'll share the pizza." 

Kogure nods and signals for a waiter. He almost misses the soft 'thank you' that escapes from my lips. 

"Oh, it's nothing. We're friends, aren't we?" 

Maybe it's the hunger that's seriously getting to my head. Or maybe this horrible day, together with last night's events, have made me almost desperate for human company. Friends. I haven't heard that word sound so appealing for so long, until now. 

Still, something holds me back. 

I simply shrug.   


* * *

*Does anyone watch Boy Meets World? Remember Finney and his 'on the contrary, Mr Matthews' thing? Hehe. 

Everyone, I seriously think I'm losing Rukawa here. This story is beginning to sound less and less like our favourite Ice King and more and more like...um...me? I don't know. I can't seem to write from his perspective anymore. Of course, maybe it's just me, so please tell me in your review if it still sounds like Rukawa, or if he's totally OOC. Tell me too if he's just slightly OOC. Please? Thanks. I appreciate it. 

Again, too lazy to reply to reviews and too apathetic. But thank you and keep them coming. I love reviews. They put a smile on my face. And I really need to smile right now. 

-Yelen (missy_hissy14@winningteam.com) 


	5. Trust No One

Disclaimer: Slam Dunk blah blah not mine blah blah don't sue blah blah. 

* * *

Chapter Five: Trust No One

I, Rukawa Kaede, hereby declare that pizza is the best food to ever grace the surface of the Earth. And cheese is the most genius human invention/discovery/etc ever. Well, after basketball, that is. 

Seriously, cheese is great. Melted cheese is heavenly. Especially those that you can twirl around your finger and suck off. Oooh, yeah, I love cheese. I love pizza. I love the Italians. They are such tensai for creating pizza. They deserve the Nobel Prize for Food or something for their great, great food. 

I lick a shred of melted cheese off my bottom lip. I sigh softly in contentment. This is truly the best food I've had in like, months. I don't know how I can ever go back to my usual bread-and-butter kind of life ever again. 

"So, I was saying to her, 'Yeah, we beat Shoyo!', and she was like, 'Really? Wow! Impressive!' And that was really, really mind-blowing, you know? I mean, this gorgeous chick came up to me and said _I'm_ impressive. It was really great!" 

"Gorgeous, eh? She surely can't be half as gorgeous as my Aya-chan!" 

"Mitsui, don't be stupid. She said the _team_ was impressive, not you. We beat Shoyo together. It wasn't a one-man show." 

"Nani? Are you trying to say that I'm not an impressive player? I mean, I helped the team get back on track with my beautiful three-pointers! We would've lost if it weren't for me!" 

"Oh please. You're not the only member in the team. It was teamwork and practice, practice, practice that helped us win." 

"Maa, maa, let's not fight..." 

"Kogure, didn't you see the girl? She was outside the school that other day after practice and she came up to talk to me! Wasn't she gorgeous?" 

"Um, I don't really remember." 

"Hmmph! No girl can ever win my Aya-chan in terms of gorgeousness!" 

Great, now they're talking about girls. How typical, of Mitsui especially. I think the only things he ever thinks about are basketball and girls. 

Well, it's okay, I have great food and it's free. I have nothing to complain about. 

"...Rukawa?" 

Huh? Did somebody ask me a question? 

I look up from my plate to see four pairs of eyes staring expectantly at me. Okay, I suppose someone _did_ ask me something. 

"What?" 

"We were just asking," Mitsui explains patiently, "if you ever had a girlfriend." 

I stare at him, then at Captain Akagi. He agreed to this? I didn't know he was ever one to poke his nose into other people's affairs. 

"Don't look at me like that," Akagi says defensively. "I didn't ask him to ask." 

"Yes, you did," Mitsui says calmly. "You said, 'Go ask him, Mitsui, it's more typical of you. He'd suspect something if I did the asking.'" 

Akagi glares at Mitsui, who is now smirking in triumph. "If you weren't in the same year as me, you can trust that I'd hit you on the head right about now." 

"Oh shut up, the both of you, he hasn't answered our question. We can't let him off that easily, now can we?" 

Grrr. Stupid Miyagi. He simply has to open his big mouth and put me on the spot. No wonder he's friends with Sakuragi. They have so much in common. They're both cut from the same bloody cloth. 

I look blankly back at the four of them. I have to give Kogure some credit; he's trying hard to look as if he's not interested. But of course he is. He's waiting for a reply. 

Well, I'll just have to give them something then. 

"I don't date." 

Mitsui's face falls. Miyagi narrows his eyes suspiciously. Akagi and Kogure try to mask their surprise and interest by looking as if they don't care. But they do. Of course they do. It is me they are interrogating. Me, Rukawa Kaede, the guy who doesn't talk. The 'mysterious' super rookie. Bleah. 

Then again, if the roles were reversed, I guess I'd be pretty interested too. 

"Oh, come on, don't be such a spoilt sport!" Mitsui protests. "What kind of straight, hormonal guy doesn't date?" 

"Unless," Miyagi pipes up, "you're gay." 

I roll my eyes. I take another bite of my pizza and mumble with my mouth full, "Do a'hou. I'm not gay. I just don't date." 

"But you have so many girls following you. Aren't you interested in even one of them?" 

I look at Kogure in surprise. Huh? Now he's butting into my personal life too? 

Then, something occurs to me. I should've known. They're treating me to dinner. I get Italian food for free. Of course they want something in return. Nobody just gives another person free food simply because they think it's fun. Nobody does it out of the kindness of their hearts anymore. Correct me if I'm wrong, though I don't see how I can be, but isn't it true to say that most of us aren't Mother Teresa? 

My seniors want something from me in return. They want details of my personal life. In exchange for a free meal. 

Well, they're not getting anything off me, that's for sure. 

I give Kogure my killer eye. "Drop it," I snarl. "Stop prodding into my life." 

Kogure looks taken aback, and almost hurt, as if I'd reach out to slap him. "Sorry..." he says slowly. "I didn't mean to pry." 

Okay Kaede, that was slightly overboard. We're dealing with _Kogure_ here, for crying out loud. He's done nothing to deserve your wrath. Do something to make it up to him. He's been so nice to you. It's the least you can do. 

"Forget it." 

Well. _That's _the most I can do. 

I tune out the rest of their conversation and concentrate on eating. To be honest, their girlfriend question brought back some unwanted memories, of a girl and I holding hands, laughing, having fun, doing normal teenager-ish things. She left around the same time my father did, packing up the 'us' and leaving behind the 'me'. She was the first girl I ever loved, and she broke my heart. 

What is the point of dating when relationships ultimately end? There isn't any point in inviting pain and hurt. I don't know about the rest of the world, but I, for one, am not particularly keen on going through that incredible amount of hurt ever again. It's too energy-consuming. Besides, no one is worth it. 

It's so much easier not to care.   


*****   


I'm walking back home with Mitsui yammering away beside me. For some reason he offered to accompany me home. I couldn't be bothered to protest so I just let him be. 

"So, I mean, don't you think I did the right thing? I had to break up with her. She was taking up way too much of my practice time. I was in the right, wasn't I? You should be able to relate, since you love basketball too. Don't you think?" 

See what I mean about him being obsessed with girls and basketball? He's talked about nothing but those two subjects so far. And my response hasn't gone further than the occasional "huh" and "right". 

"Okay, so don't talk. Forget it. I don't know why I'm being so nice to you anyway."   
  
I roll my eyes. Somebody seriously needs to deflate his bursting ego. 

We walk in silence for a while. I'm thinking about my mother. I'm thinking I should at least apologise. What I did isn't something I'm proud of. In fact, it pretty much accounts for my horrible day, until after basketball practice, at least. 

I sigh to myself. I can't remember the last time I told somebody that I was sorry. I couldn't even say it to Kogure just now. How am I supposed to say it to my mother? I hardly even speak to her, because most of the time, she doesn't even hear a word I say. 

I must have sighed again, for Mitsui is suddenly looking at me with concern on his face. 

"Hey, Rukawa? I know we're not close or anything. I mean, we're not even friends. But still, if anything's troubling you..." 

"I'm fine," I reply curtly. 

His mouth falls open slightly. I don't know why they still continue to be taken aback by my rudeness. I thought it's what everyone expects of me, what with my arrogant attitude and my one-liners and all. 

"Okay, fine. Be like that." 

Great. Now Mitsui's pissed. How many people do I have to hurt or piss off in less than a week? First it was my mother. Then Kogure. Now Mitsui. And I haven't even counted the girls I snap at in school. 

Mitsui should just go back to talking about girls and basketball, because the silence is seriously unnerving. And a quiet Mitsui is way out of character. I'd trade his annoying yakking for this uncomfortable silence any day. 

Dammit, I can't take it anymore. We still have a long way to go before we reach my house. He has to say something. 

"So how did the girl take it?" 

Mitsui is surprised. That much is obvious from the look on his face. He's probably shocked, even. Well, whatever. Nobody can ever accuse me of being cliché. 

"Um, not well," he answers uncertainly. "In fact, she yelled at me and called me, and I quote, 'a dirty, disgusting, hentai scumbag who doesn't deserve to live'. Although I don't know why she thinks I'm perverted. I never did anything to her. You know, that way." 

I nod. Well. The silence is filled, at least. Mitsui takes my complete sentence as a sign that I'm listening and is chattering away again. I feel almost bad about tuning him out. Almost, but not quite. 

For some reason I'm feeling pretty lousy. I've been feeling like that the whole day, but dinner somewhat perked me up. Now that it's just me and Mitsui and his basketball/girls talk, not to mention we're slowly approaching home, I'm thinking about my mother yet again. Argh. I wish I could take my words back. I wish I'd left her a note to say I'm sorry before I left for school today. 

I wish Dad - 

No Kaede, don't go there. You don't want to go there. You don't want to think about that bastard. You don't want to take it out on Mitsui by clobbing him to death. Mitsui is innocent, and for some reason that I don't want to think about, he's being nice to you. He doesn't deserve it. 

"...trust no one." 

Mitsui's words catch my attention. I stop walking. 

"What did you say?" 

"Just that, you know, sometimes it's easier to trust no one to prevent yourself from getting hurt." 

I stop breathing for a couple of seconds as I let the truth of his words sink into my head. Has Mitsui gone through something horrible? Is that why he feels the way that I do about trust and hurt? What was he talking about before? 

"But then," he goes on. "It's terribly lonely when it's just you against the world." 

Okay. This is getting weird. I'm on the verge of flinging myself into his arms and spilling my guts to him. All because of a few words he'd uttered that rang true to me. 

Rukawa Kaede, a reality check here. Trust no one. Didn't Mitsui just say that? What makes Mitsui any different from the people who have hurt you your whole life? Just because he happened to say a few profound words, doesn't mean anything has changed. 

He was right. He and I are not friends. We're just team-mates. Nothing more. 

Rukawa Kaede doesn't make friends. Rukawa Kaede doesn't need anyone. All he needs is basketball.   


*****   


I push open the door to my mother's bedroom quietly, taking extra care not to wake her. But a slight stirring on her bed tells me that she's awake. 

"Kaede?" she slurs sleepily. "Is that you?" 

The stench of alcohol drifts towards me and invades my nose. I stifle a sneeze. 

"Yeah." 

I will myself not to turn around and bolt out of the room. I will myself to walk towards her. I take a deep breath to calm my racing heart. This could be the most difficult thing I'd ever have to do in quite a while. 

"Mom," I say softly. I sit down tentatively on her bed, next to her feet. Her face is hidden in the darkness. 

She doesn't answer me and I can't see her face. Just as well. 

"Um," I begin. I rack my brains for the right words, for words that I feel comfortable uttering. God, why do I have to do this? Why am I not the cold and unfeeling bastard everyone in school thinks I am? This is so, so difficult. 

"I'm sorry," I blurt finally. "For what I said yesterday. Sorry." 

She sits up slowly, and her face emerges from the darkness. That's when I realise that she's actually sober tonight. 

She manages a wan smile. "It's all right, Kaede. It's all right."   


***** 

Sorry to disappoint, but I didn't throw myself into her arms and cry my heart out on her shoulder. I'm not cliché, remember? I simply nodded and walked out of the room. I think my mother understood though. I think she'd been waiting for that apology the entire day and accepted it the minute I walked into the room. 

Finally, the weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I begin to feel better about myself. Maybe I'll go to the court near my house tomorrow to shoot some hoops after work. Maybe I'll even cook dinner. 

Well, maybe not, considering I can't cook. I tried once. All I succeeded in doing was setting fire to the meat I attempted to fry after forgetting to pour vegetable oil into the pan. 

It doesn't matter, though. All that matters is that my mother and I are okay again.   


* * *

A/N: What a stupid, sappy way to end this chapter and the 'mother is mad at me boo hoo' thing. But I can't keep giving Kaede-kun sob stories, can I? It's too cruel. He deserves some peace and happiness from time to time. 

I'll explain his source of income and his extensive knowledge of Physics and Mathematics really, really soon. I was going to do his income in this chapter but the dinner thing was just so fun to write about, especially because Mitsui made an appearance and I love writing about my handsome, dashing Hisashi-kun. :) I did type something about Rukawa's ex but I decided it was too corny so I deleted it. Me being me, I saved it somewhere in case I want it in the future. 

So why am I telling you all this? I have no idea. Hmm. 

unchained: Thanks for the feedback! Really, you found the earlier chapters hilarious? haha, thanks. I'm racking my brains to come up with something funny for the next chapter, but because I don't really do humour very well, I'm having a dang hard time. I'll keep trying though. Thanks for the continous support. :) 

tensaispira: Haha I don't speak French. I got the 'quel est le point' thing from the translator at google.com. Haha! 

fourteen: He doesn't pay attention to class. You'll know the answer soon. Actually I'm glad you asked the question. I was wondering if I should explain. Now I know I have to. 

sLL: Karma is like...what goes around, comes around. Like if you do something good, something good will happen to you and vice versa. At least, that's what I think it is. Wow your IQ score was 148? Damn, you're the tensai! 

Jo: Thanks. 

jashuang: Suntec City where? And what laser show? How come I know nothing about a laser show? I really need to get out more... 

Devoted2Mitsui: I LOVE Mitsui! I love him love him love him LOVE HIM! I LOVE HIM! I am part of the Mitsui brigade and I'm not ashamed! Um, yes, anyway. I agree with your analysis of Rukawa's background. He's kind of an intriguing character, isn't he? But I love Mitsui. I love him! Hehe um, anyway... 

Everyone else: Sorry about this. I don't know what to say anymore. Yeah. And it's getting late too. Thanks again for all the reviews. Please come back to read! Although I'd keep posting even if no one's reading 'cause I love writing from Kaede's twisted POV. He's cool. Literally and otherwise. 

-Yelen (missy_hissy14@winningteam.com) 

[By the way: 'gorgeousness' is not a word. Don't learn from Miyagi.] 

[...Okay, so I made a mistake. So what.] 


	6. After the Storm

Disclaimer: Mitsui Hisashi is mine. Everyone else isn't. (Except a few OCs here and there.) Okay, Micchy isn't mine either. Happy now?! 

* * *

Chapter Six: After the Storm

I'm dozing at the cash register of the drug store I work in during the weekends. Business is slow today. So far, only a few people have entered the store, and it's already 12 noon. Nobody would get hurt if I sleep here for a while. 

Hmm. Sleep. My baby. Ahh, yes...dear butterfly...you're back...please let me catch you this time...oh, you're so pretty...so yellow...you shine and you glitter...I love the way you look...no, don't turn into a moth! Not again! What is wrong with this dream? Please don't let me fall down again and hurt my poor behind... 

A sudden slap on the cash register wakes me. Who in the world is stupid enough to dare disturb my sleep? 

"Don't drool all over the counter!" 

Damn. My boss. I don't like him. He's a real brute and he likes to throw his authority around. I hate men who do that. They seem to think that they are all that just because they have the power to make or break a person's career. I mean, what bullshit. They are just like the rest of us at the end of the day so what gives them the right? 

I stare at my boss and I don't blink. This will show you what your payback is for thinking you're the shit when you're not. Idiot. 

My stupid boss must be soaking in the iciness that I'm radiating for he suddenly turns pale. He removes his hand from the counter and averts his eyes. 

"Um, just do your work," he mutters, and walks away. 

So. My boss is a brute _and_ a weakling. What sense it makes. 

I would quit this job, but my mother and I need the money. The money that the court ordered the ex-paternal figure to send to us every month isn't enough to cover our expenses, which include food, electrical/water bills, clothes, and new bikes. 

Which reminds me. I need to get a new bike after leaving my traitor one at the scene of the crime yesterday. I want a cool BMX mountain bike but it's too expensive, so I'll settle for a cheap, bland-looking but working one. 

I'm about to go off into a fantasy involving a brand new bicycle when a loud and rowdy gang enter the drug store. 

"Ore wa tensai!" 

Oh darn. Is it who I think it is? 

Of course it is. Who else would go around proclaiming shamelessly to unsuspecting citizens of Japan and the world that he is a genius? Who else has such a thick, conceited head? 

"KITSUNE! You work here?" 

I sigh. Sakuragi isn't contented with tormenting me in school. He has to carry that out to my workplace as well. Life is unfair. 

"Do'ahou. I'm just relaxing behind the cash register because it's what I do for fun." 

Wow, that has to be the longest sentence I've uttered in months. But Sakuragi's stupidity is too much for me to just battle it with something like, "Do'ahou. What does it look like?" He deserves my biting sarcasm. 

Sakuragi narrows his eyes at me. He stalks towards me, his arms lumbering at his side, looking like the Incredible Hulk with red hair. 

He pushes his face so close to mine that his nose is practically touching mine. Disgusting. I pull my face away. 

"Listen up, kitsune," he growls. "Don't act all high and mighty just because you beat me in the Shoyo game. I'll kick your ass in our game against Kainan. You understand?" 

I don't believe this guy. The Shoyo match was like a million years ago and he's still harping about it? Does this idiot even have a life? He seriously needs to get laid; at least then he'd have something else to obsess over. 

"Get a life." 

I ignore Sakuragi and start to play with the cash register. Cash registers are fun to monkey around with when you're as bored as I am. You can close it and it will go, 'ka-ching!' It's such a wonderful sound. Reminds me of that mock cash register I had for a toy when I was a kid. 

I'm in the middle of slamming the cash register shut and opening it again when some girl suddenly snaps her fingers in my face. 

"Hey, do you have strawberry-flavoured condoms around here?" 

God, she has a loud voice. What few customers we have turn to look, including, unfortunately, Sakuragi and his friends. 

Fucking idiot Sakuragi is gloating and smirking at me. Do'ahou. Let's see if he'd be able to keep that smirk if he were the one having to deal with this boyish-looking girl demanding for strawberry-flavoured condoms. 

"Um," I say. Then, an idea hits me. A stroke of genius, you may call it. I glance at Sakuragi's self-satisfied mug and I'm convinced of what I have to do. 

"Ask that red-head over there," I reply, pointing at Sakuragi. 

His face immediately changes. I can almost see the thoughts that are running through his mind: What is going on? Why is the kitsune pointing at me? What is he saying? Am I going to die? Is this the end of the tensai? 

"He's the one handling the condoms," I add as a final note to the butchy girl as she strides towards the now-pale Sakuragi. 

Man, I need popcorn! This is great. It's the best show I've seen in years! It's even better than The Bachelor! I don't need just popcorn, I need a video camera to capture this fantastic moment! 

This is what happens: Sakuragi's face turns redder than his hair as he begins to deny working in the drug store and 'handling' the condoms. Sakuragi puts both hands up to his face to ward off Butchy Girl's spit (she spits a lot when she talks). Sakuragi shakes his head fervently, to emphasise that he doesn't work here. Butchy Girl doesn't believe him. She is convinced that he does, because he, and I quote, 'looks like a total hentai with that red hair. Don't you know that red is a sexual colour?' Sakuragi looks desperate. He glares at me as he backs away from Butchy Girl. Sakuragi's friends watch the incident from a corner, laughing their asses off. Butchy Girl is pissed that she isn't getting her strawberry-flavoured condoms. She starts to yell. Sakuragi backs away some more, and then, unknowingly, he backs into a shelf. 

Coincidentally, the shelf that he walked into is the condoms shelf. As soon as he made contact, a few hundred packets of condoms fall off the shelf and lie scattered on the ground. Sakuragi's eyes widen in shock, as if he's never seen condoms before. 

What a loser. 

Now Butchy Girl is picking up her goods from the floor. She glares at Sakuragi, and spits out, "What kind of a salesman are you? Is this the way you direct your customers to their products? By spilling everything on the floor? Idiot!" 

I'm quite amazed that I can hear her voice amidst Youhei and gang's loud, obnoxious laughing. They are slapping their thighs and holding their stomachs. Those guys are insane. 

"Way to go, Hanamichi!" Takamiya taunts. "Score! If you get what I mean! Muahahahahahahahahaha!" 

"What would Haruko-chan think?" Noma pipes up. "I bet she wouldn't be too pleased to find out that you're Sakuragi, the condoms-handler! Bwahahahahahahahahahahah!" 

"Yeah, Hanamichi!" Okusu adds. "No girl would ever agree to go out on a date with you once the whole school knows you're a hentai! Yeahahahahahahahahahahah!" 

Youhei, on the other hand, says nothing. Not because he's too kind, but because he's laughing too hard to even choke out a word. 

Butchy Girl is suddenly in my face. "Are the employees here usually that insane?" 

I nod solemnly. "That'll be five dollars." 

Butchy Girl pays up and exits the store, but not without giving Sakuragi one last withering glare. 

Poor guy. I almost feel sorry for him. But it's his fault for being such an annoying pain in the ass. 

Oh look, Bossy Boss is here. He must've heard all the commotion and is finally rushing out to check on his beloved drug store. 

The look on Bossy Boss's face is almost as priceless as Sakuragi's encounter with Butchy Girl as he takes in the disaster scene. Packets of condoms are strewn everywhere, and some of them, due to lousy packaging, have popped open, revealing their contents. He then looks at the person standing over the disaster scene, and he sees none other than Sakuragi. 

"DID YOU DO THIS?" he booms. "WHO THE HELL ARE YOU? GET OUT OF MY STORE! NOW! GET OUT!" 

"But oyaji, it's the kitsune's fault!" 

Bossy Boss clenches his fist and looks ready to punch Sakuragi is the face. "Who are you calling 'oyaji'! Do I look that old? And who is the kitsune?" 

Sakuragi, that baka, points at me. To his credit, Bossy Boss gives me the benefit of the doubt. 

"Rukawa, do you know this guy?" 

"No, sir," I deadpan. "Never seen him before in my life."   
  
*****   
  
My shift is finally over. I go into the Employees Only room and retrieve my backpack. First thing I do is to open it up and check if my trusty basketball is still in there. 

It stares back at me, polished and clean. I zip my backpack up with satisfaction. 

Call me paranoid if you must, but my basketball is my most prized possession, after my autographed Jordan jersey. I'd go berserk if I lose it. I thought I'd lost it once, when I cycled to the court near my apartment to shoot a few hoops and discovered that my ball wasn't in my bag. I panicked and everything, and was even tempted to hurl my body in front of the streaming cars, when I remembered I left it on my bed and forgot to bring it. 

Since I don't have a bike, I'd have to walk to the court. It's a long way but I have no other choice. Besides, I'm getting my pay check tomorrow. I can buy a new bike immediately after that. 

So I'm walking down the streets of Kanagawa, minding my own business when suddenly a flower pot drops in front of me. I stop dead in my tracks. I stare at the flower pot, now shattered into pieces. Then I look up. And see Mitsui's sheepish face looking back at me. 

"What's the deal?" I yell. Yes, I am capable of yelling. Surprise, surprise. I could scream too if I'm truly boiling with rage at somebody. Believe me though, you wouldn't want me to scream in your face. It's not a melodious sound. Not at all. 

"Sorry!" His voice drifts downwards. "Is Rukawa Kaede actually yelling?" 

"I wouldn't be, if you'd come down and let me hit you," I mutter to myself. Instead, I glare at him and start to walk away. 

Mitsui must've hurried downstairs, for he suddenly taps my shoulder. 

"What?" I snap. Is it not enough that you nearly killed me with a flower pot? Or are you here to finish what you failed to start? 

"Sorry about that, I didn't know you were approaching," he says. "I just wanted to see how a flower pot would look when free-falling five storeys down." 

I stare at Mitsui. I don't know what I'm more appalled at: his morbid fascination with falling flower pots, or the fact that he knows what the constant ten-metres-per-second-square acceleration _g_ is called. He is truly one of the freakiest guys I've ever met. 

"Do'ahou." 

I'm walking away now, but he isn't relenting. He sure is acting very buddy-buddy with me these few days. I wonder if he has any ulterior motives. Whatever he plans to do, I am not going into bed with him. 

"So where are you going?" 

Damn, he's walking with me. Just because I allowed him to accompany me home last night, doesn't mean we're friends. He was the one who said 'trust no one.' Talk about self-contradictory. 

"To shoot some hoops." 

"Oh." Mitsui stops to admire some weird-looking flower pot that looks like a cross between a cat and a dog in a florist. I roll my eyes but stop walking too. 

"Would love to join you, but I gotta go for tuition. Hey, look at this flower pot. Isn't it pretty?" 

Right. I'm supposed to comment on a flower pot? Right. The last I checked, I still had my sanity with me. 

"Didn't say you could join me. And I don't do flower pots." 

"Haha Rukawa, very funny," he retorts. He finally tears himself away from the flower pot and starts to walk again. "Are you always this witty?" 

"Maybe." 

"So where's the court?" 

"Far away." 

"Well, that's certainly comprehensive..." 

I grunt in reply. 

"So we're back to not talking, are we?" 

I shrug. I cross the road, not waiting for Mitsui to catch up, but he does anyway. Argh, stupid, stupid baka. Can't he tell that I'm trying to shake him off? 

"By the way, Rukawa," he says. "I heard that Sakuragi cursing you loudly a few hours ago when he went past my apartment. Yelled something about condoms and strawberries. What happened?" 

"Trust me, you wouldn't want to know." 

"As a matter of fact," he rebuts annoyingly. "I do." 

I sigh. "Ask Youhei or Takamiya on Monday. They'd love to tell it to you." 

Mitsui doesn't answer. He's counting something on his fingers. 

"Thirteen," he announces. "You just strung together thirteen words in one breath. Congratulations! Is this a new record?" 

I don't know what to say to that. It is so immaturely stupid and childish, and yet so annoyingly...well, true. If Mitsui ever wants advice on what his calling in life is, he should come to me. It's obviously to pick on vulnerable guys like myself and to try to make us his sex slaves. 

All I can manage is, "Do'ahou." 

***** 

I let go of the rim of the hoop and land steadily on both feet. That was an awesome dunk, even if I do say so myself. I think I'm ready for the NBA. All I need now is a talent scout to attend one of our games to recognise me. And then, it's America, here I come. 

I retrieve my ball. I dribble it around for a while, falling into the constant rhythm of ball against ground, and it's at times like these that I feel truly relaxed and at ease with the world. During this small amount of time, my worries, my sadness, and my awful memories all fly away with the passing wind. All that's left are me and my basketball. We're totally in sync and together. I love it this way. 

I run towards the basket. I jump up, shift the ball from my left hand to my right, and, with a small flick of the wrist, lay the ball into the hoop. 

Another point for Rukawa Kaede! 

I'm about to do a three-pointer when somebody suddenly bursts into hearty applause. I whirl around to see who else is here...and my eyes fall on a familiar face. 

Wait, correction. My eyes fall on a familiar, gravity-defying hairstyle. Then they fall onto the face. 

Sendoh. 

"Not bad," he says as he strides towards me. He's smiling his stupid 'I am a nice guy' smile that seriously irks me. "You've improved from the last I saw you play. Which was your match against Miuradai." 

What's that supposed to mean? That smug, self-satisfied jerk! I'm not about to waste my time and give him the time of the day. Ignoring him, I go back to taking my three-pointer. I release the ball from my hands, my arms forming a graceful arc over my head. 

The ball falls comfortably into the net. Swish. 

Take that, Sendoh Akira. You can wipe that irritating smile off your face now and bow to the master. Me. 

Did I just say 'bow to the master'? Damn. That baka Sakuragi and his self-praising, 'I am a tensai' talks are rubbing off on me. 

To my absolute horror, Sendoh picks up my ball and spins it on his finger. His hands are on my basketball. My precious basketball. The nerve of him! 

"Don't touch my ball," I snap. "I don't want you to dirty it." 

Sendoh raises an eyebrow, but his smile doesn't falter. He drops my ball and flicks it towards me. I catch it easily. 

"So," he drawls. "Want to play one-on-one?" 

My initial reaction is, _Of freaking course not_! Then I think, _If I beat Sendoh, I can treat myself to ice-cream without feeling guilty. And I really want ice-cream right now._

So my decision is: "Fine. Let's play." 

"What, no longer afraid of me dirtying your precious ball?" 

I narrow my eyes at him. "Don't push it." 

He doesn't answer and simply flashes that annoying smile again. You know what I think of people who smile too much? They have super elastic lips that wouldn't snap back into place no matter how hard they try because they spend half their lives smiling like total retards. That is what I think of Sendoh. 

I am not jealous. I just wish I'd been there to see the expression on his 'I'm always this cheerful!' face when Sakuragi crushed his hand after our practice game with them. That would certainly be something that I just might laugh at, and everyone knows I don't laugh. 

"We'll play till twenty points, ten baskets," he calls out. "You start." 

I roll my eyes. How benevolent and philanthropic. I am in absolute awe of his giving and unselfish nature. 

Just so you wait, Sendoh. You don't know who you're dealing with. 

* * *

  
  
A/N: I don't know what it is with me and condoms either. And that whole crap with Mitsui and the flower pot...that was my lame attempt at humour. Don't chuck tomatoes at me. I know, it's really dumb. Oh well. :) 

I hope I spelled and got the meaning of 'oyaji' right. I don't dislike Sendoh. I think he's pretty darn cute. But I'm not the super rookie he challenged a match with, am I? (If I were, I'd let me win. Haha. Right. I can't even play basketball.) 

sLL: Was tempted to make this yaoi (especially when I wrote out the Rukawa/Sendoh match thing) but sorry, I can't. Firstly, I don't read yaoi so I don't know how to do it properly. Secondly, this is primarily an attempt at explaining why Kaede is the way he is. Yaoi doesn't figure into any of it. Sorry. But you did get me to considering writing a yaoi fic. And also, I love Kiyota too, he's the Kainan Sakuragi! Hehe. Thanks for the continuous support. :) 

unchained: Haha sorry for making you salivate! Didn't know you're fasting. Thanks also for the continuous support. (Funny, this sounds rather familiar...) I didn't know you took your O Levels too. I didn't study much for it, so I'd be happy to get below 20 points...Anyway, where are you going for the first three months?   
  
frozen female: Sure, I'll continue. In fact, I've already written chapter seven. I just need to fix some parts and think of a crucial plot twist... 

everyone else: WHERE ARE MY FREAKING REVIEWS?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?! 

(Just kidding.) 


	7. Duel

Disclaimer: Blah blah blah. You already know the drill. SD characters ain't mine although the story, obviously, is. And one day, Mitsui shall be mine. Bwahahahahaha.   


* * *

Chapter Seven: Duel

I duck under Sendoh's outstretched arm and drive towards the basket. Ha! The smiling idiot fell for my feint! Quickly, I jump lightly into the air and lay the ball in. Two more points for me, and I've taken the lead. The score now is 10-8. 

Pretty close fight. 

I'm perspiring and my sweat could practically flood the Sahara. This is one of the most gruelling workouts I've had in months. Sendoh, he's tough, I'll give you that much. He blocked a few of my shots that have always worked in actual matches, even against Shoyo. Like when I tried to toss the ball in with an underhand but Sendoh swatted it down before I could even blink. Needless to say, that got me pretty pissed off. And when I'm pissed, I play like a mad man. No pun intended. 

Knees bent, body crouched low, I fix my eyes steadily on the ball -- my precious ball -- in Sendoh's hands. He's passing it back and forth between his hands and he's staring straight at me. Is it just me, or is there a mocking glint in his eyes? 

God, he's infuriating, perhaps even more so than that baka Sakuragi. He's not going to score this time. You can count on it. 

After what felt like eternity, Sendoh finally moves. He dribbles towards me, heading straight for where I'm standing. That throws me off but not for long; I do a quick right to block his way to the goal. He responds by switching to the left. His movement is snappy and rapid, almost like lightning. I don't even have time to regain my balance before he takes his shot. 

Swish. Nothing but net. 

I breathe heavily as I stare at the ball -- _my precious ball_ -- that is now bouncing away from me. Sendoh picks it up, throws it carelessly in my direction, almost hitting me in the face but my reflexes save me and I catch it just in the nick of time. 

"What's wrong, Rukawa? Getting tired?" 

Okay, that glint in his eyes before was definitely a mocking one. It matches perfectly with his taunting words. I growl silently. Stupid, stupid Sendoh. I'd give anything to be able to disfigure him and get away with it. 

I don't answer him. Taking advantage of his cockiness, I don't give him a second to think. I fake a right; he falls for it. I dribble to my left, running for the goal, leaving Sendoh behind to eat my dust. I leap into the air and, aiming for the centre of the hoop, slam the ball in. 

12-10, to Rukawa Kaede! The crowd goes wild! 

"What's wrong, Sendoh?" I mimic. "Losing your touch?" 

His eyes narrow. For the first time today, he's stopped smiling. So, he's finally realised that things are getting serious. That's what he gets for looking down on me. So bloody what if he's from Ryonan? Big deal. Shohoku can kick their asses anytime. 

"The game's not over yet," he replies smoothly. "You still have 8 more points to go." 

Again, I don't bother to reply. Eyes fixed sharply on the ball, I prepare to defend my lead. I'm prepared for whatever weird gimmicks Sendoh throws at me. 

Sure enough, Sendoh decides to fake me out. He pretends to shoot, but when I don't move, he loses balance, and I take that chance to grab the ball from his hand. 

"Hey!" he yells out in surprise. I roll my eyes. Not wasting even a second, I aim, and release the ball from my hands. It sails through the air, heading towards the basket, and - 

Blocked! No, not just blocked! Stolen! Sendoh suddenly appeared in front of me and grabbed the ball in mid-air. He doesn't waste a second either; he dunks the ball in. 

"Score," he says. He shrugs good-naturedly and flashes that annoying smile at me again. "Sorry." 

I feel something boiling at the pit of my stomach. This feeling is awfully familiar. What is it? Oh, yeah. It's rage. 

I'm so tempted to just hurl the ball in that smiling idiot's face. Does he have to smile all the damn time? Are his lips made of rubber? 

"Want to take a break? You look pretty exhausted." 

_I_ look exhausted? What about you? You're breathing just as heavily as I am! Don't act all concerned for me when it's you who want the break. At least have the balls to admit it! 

"No," I answer icily. "I'm okay." 

His eyebrow shoots up. "Okay," he drawls. "Let's go on then." 

Current score: 12-12. Eight more points to go, which totals to four more baskets. I can do this, and by god, I will. Dammit, I want ice-cream, for crying out loud. I deserve ice-cream, after playing with Sendoh for god-knows-how long. It feels like forever. 

Doesn't matter. I'll focus on the task at hand and dream about ice-cream later. Right now, I have to beat Sendoh. 

Dribble, dribble, stop. Hustle, jostle, turn, fake, turn again, shoot. Score. 

14-12 to me. So far, Sendoh has fallen for most of my feints. I'll remember this weak point and use it for future games against Ryonan. 

Sendoh smiles again. What is there to smile about? I just scored a basket over his pricky head. He should be worrying, and not smiling away like he's just won the damn lottery. Did I ever mention that he's getting on my nerves? He is. Well and truly. 

"Six more points," he says. 

Thank you, Sendoh, but I can count. You focus on taking a lead, because you haven't so far. 

I hold out my arms and adopt the standard 'defence' pose. He's standing quite still, his eyes darting back and forth, from the basket to me. Argh, my knees are beginning to hurt. Can he just move already? 

Then, without warning, he holds the ball in front of his head and releases it. I turn back and watch in horror as the ball enters the net safely. 

I look back at Sendoh again. Shit. He shot from the three-point line. 

"That's three points," he says. He smiles. "Sorry." 

_Stop smiling, for crying out loud! And while you're at that, stop saying 'sorry' when you obviously don't mean it!_

"Fine. Three points." I'm really, really beyond being pissed now. I'm enraged. What made him think he could shoot from the outside? Or rather, what made him think I couldn't? Two could definitely play the game. 

I pretend to shoot from the outside. I know he'd attempt to block my shot, so I decide to reserve my three-pointer for later on. For now, though, this is what I'd do. 

I throw the ball over Sendoh's pricky head and send it flying towards the basket. Immediately, I run after it. I push my feet against the ground and elevate myself into the air. I grab hold of the ball. Using both hands, I slam it into the hoop with as much force as I can muster. The ring rattles and creaks noisily as I hang on to the rim. 

I land safely on both feet. Sendoh is gaping at me. 16-15. 

"That's a dunk," I say coolly.   


*****   


We're going for the final point now, the decisive point. I tried a three-pointer but Sendoh blocked it. I did manage to make a successful lay-up though. The score is now 18-18. He scored again by a three-pointer. 

It's Sendoh's ball, which means I'm in potential danger. Sendoh is a tough player to mark. He moves smoothly and quickly, and he fakes without giving his opponent time to think and to recover. So okay, he's good. Fine. He's really good. But I don't think he's better than me. If he were, he would've beaten me a long time ago. 

"You ready?" he says. "It's the final basket." 

"I know," I mutter. _And I'm going to win, _I add silently. 

Okay Kaede, steady yourself. This is it. This is the final show down. And you're so going to win. 

Sendoh moves slowly, deliberately dragging out the time before he takes action. He glances at my outstretched arms. Shit, is that a smirk I'm seeing on his face? The nerve of him! 

Finally, he starts his play. He dribbles to the left. I follow suit and block his way with my body. He tries to get around me, but I have him marked tight. Then, he tries a feint, but I don't buy it. I try to steal the ball. This time, he has a firm grip on it. 

He tries to go to the right. I don't allow him to. He circles around my left again, looking for a way out, but he finds none. I'm so intent on blocking his way that I don't realise we're almost directly under the basket, until, to my absolute surprise and indignance, he fakes a left and I fall for it, and he jumps into the air and executes a slam dunk. 

I can do nothing right now but stare as he retrieves the ball and hands it to me. 

"Sorry, I win," he tells me. As if I don't know. "But it was a good game. You put on a tough fight." 

I stare some more. He is smiling again, like it would make me feel better. To hell with his stupid smile! I don't want to look at his face anymore, for I fear I may do something drastic. Like picking up the nearest rock and smashing it repeatedly against his smug face. Or holding him in a tight deadlock with my arm around his neck and crushing his windpipes. Or even better, pushing him in front of the speeding cars that are zooming by every few seconds and watching as he becomes roadkill, and revelling in it. 

I snatch my precious ball from his hands. Without a word, I stash it into my backpack and stalk off the court, leaving Sendoh behind. 

***** 

Despite having lost to Sendoh, I bought an ice-cream for myself anyway. I think I deserve it. I did some thinking after blowing Sendoh off, and I reached the conclusion that, as much as I hate to admit it, he was right. It _was_ a good game. Sendoh is a good basketball player. I shouldn't be ashamed to lose to him. 

Yeah freaking right. Like I'd ever admit to that. I'd get him the next time, in a proper Shohoku vs. Ryonan match. I'd be all over his ass and I'd mark him so tightly that he wouldn't know what hit him. And _then_ we'll see if he'd still be able to smile all the time. 

Still miffed about losing, I take another bite of my vanilla ice-cream cone and proceed to walk home. I wonder what I'm having for dinner tonight. I hope Mom's re-stock our food supply. Last time I checked, which was this morning, we only had a can of beans left in the shelf and less than half a bucket of rice. 

I grimace. I hate beans. I'm sick of eating it all the time. I'd rather live on ice-cream. 

I start to walk up the steps to my apartment when I catch a glimpse of something familiar, stashed behind one of the garbage cans. I take a closer look, and realise that it's the bike I thrashed yesterday morning while cycling to school. 

What the hell is it doing here? I thought I left it by the roadside and abandoned it forever. Slightly excited, I wheel it out of its hiding place. I hop on it. I paddle around a little. 

Shit, it's working! My bike is alive! But how? It's impossible. I'm pretty sure no one I know saw my little accident yesterday. And I'm positive that the bike was totally wrecked after I fell into that heinous ditch. And not forgetting the small fact that it was _hidden_ behind the garbage cans, almost like somebody didn't want me to find it. 

Weird. A sudden drop in temperature induces shivers in me. Or maybe it's just the way I'm cold all of a sudden.   


*****   


"Mom, did you fix my bike?" 

She looks up from the dishes that she's washing. "What are you talking about?" 

"My bike. The one I thrashed yesterday and left at the roadside. Somebody fixed it and brought it back. I thought it was you." 

Her look of confusion confirms it. She's not the one behind it. 

"I don't know what you're talking about, Kaede," she replies, somewhat bewildered. "You thrashed your bike yesterday? What happened?" 

I sigh. I don't want to go through this. "Nothing," I answer. I go back to wiping the table.   


***** 

I accidentally step on an empty beer can on the way to my bedroom. Shaking my head, I pick it up. I fling it carelessly towards the direction of the dustbin. It goes in with a soft 'plod'. 

Switching on the light in my room, I sit down on my bed. I can't get over how my bicycle suddenly re-appeared. And it isn't just that it's working again. It is also the coat of new paint on it. And whoever did it managed to get the same bright neon pink as the old coat. 

It's kind of freaky, if you think about it, almost like this were a Sherlock Holmes mystery. The only person who could've done it is my mother, and the exchange in the kitchen just now proves that it wasn't her. 

So then, who was it?   


* * *

  
A/N: I realised that I've been spelling "do'ahou" wrong the entire time. So sorry. Please mentally change the spelling. I'm too lazy to do it. :) The damn basketball scenes took me forever to write. It probably doesn't make sense but I really am too damn lazy to do anything about it, so um, sorry again. 

At the time of writing this I don't know either who brought the bike back. I only threw in this plot detail because I couldn't continue the chapter. Don't worry though, my tensai mind will come up with something. Haha! 

unchained: Finally! Somebody else agrees that I am a genius! It's time for world-domination! Um, anyway, I emailed you but I don't know if it got through. Tell me if you got my email okay? I'm glad you found Chapter 6 funny. =) 

fourteen: Heh thanks for the feedback, especially that bit about the ex-girlfriend. I wanted to include a flashback about the girl but it was so corny that I axed it. Don't feel bad about yourself, I'm just really bored at home with nothing to do, which is why I update rather quickly. And because it's fun torturing Rukawa. Nyahahahaha. 

jashuang: ...For heaven's sake, I KNOW where Suntec City is. Where IN Suntec City, exactly? You don't really expect me to scour the entire mall for something that probably doesn't even exist, do you?! 

sLL: Haha I loved that part of that SD episode you mentioned, when Mitsui had his arm around Rukawa's neck and was kind of choking him, that was so funny. And yesterday (19 December) Mitsui did a wonderful elusion or whatever it's called, and although he missed his shot I started yelling like mad anyway. Hahahahahahaha. Isn't it sweet how his gangster friends are still so supportive of him? He is so well-loved by everyone! Including meeeee! Um, yeah, moving on... 

Joana: You got your wish. =) 

qianhui: Glad you liked Chapter 6. By the way I like your new site. =) 

Frozenfemale: Mitsui ADORES flower pots. he buys them and throws them off his apartment. He's crazy. I gotta tame him real soon. Bwahahahaha. 


	8. Totally Losing It

Disclaimer: See other fics or previous chapters. 

* * *

Chapter Eight: Totally Losing It

I'm sitting in a darkened apartment. It's a foreign environment. I don't really know where I am. For some reason, I'm sitting on a bed, and I'm expecting somebody, almost in excitement. A small smile creeps over my face. Whatever it is that I'm waiting for, it'd definitely be good. 

The apartment, unlike mine, is nicely-furnished and tidy. There's no signs of empty beer cans anywhere and the furnitures look expensive. I feel at ease here, more so than I do at my own house. I cross my legs. I wish the person I'm waiting for would just hurry up and put me out of my misery! 

Then, my wish is answered. A tall figure appears out of the shadows and steps into the light. His face glows and shimmers in the darkness, a lone star in the vast spread of black that is the night sky. He doesn't say a word, and neither do I. I feel a tinge of something that feels like electricity shoot up my spine. There's so much packed into this moment, so much pented-up emotions and unexpressed feelings, that I can hardly get my head around it. 

He sits beside me and I turn to look at him. He is painfully good-looking, and he doesn't even realise the effect he has on me. He looks almost haughty as he reaches out and puts his hand on my face. His touch is soft, cool and warm at the same time, like sea water washing over one's bare foot. 

"Kaede," he murmurs. "I'm so glad you're here." 

I manage to choke out, "Where am I?" 

"At a safe place," he answers softly. "You're safe with me." 

He entrances and entices me with his eyes, looking into mine as if seeing right into my soul. His words echo in my head, like a mother's lullaby to a disgrunted child. And I have no doubt that he is right. 

And then something in me breaks. A dam collapses. I break my promise to myself, the promise that I would never let anyone see the vulnerable side of me, that I would never break down in front of another person. The way he looks at me, speaks to me, touches me softly, tells me that he'd understand whatever I tell him. 

And so I do. I let out the secrets that I've been keeping for the past few years. I translate emotions and feelings and pains of the past into words, liberating them from my mind, and they hang in the air between us, my feelings and my whole heart and soul. When I'm finished I tense up, waiting for the sting of rejection, the uncomfortable silence that seems impossible to fill, expecting it any moment now, but he surprises me by taking me into his embrace. 

He strokes my back gently, as if afraid of breaking me. "I'm so sorry, Kaede," he whispers against my ear, his lips grazing my skin. "I wish I could do something to chase your demons away." 

I shiver in his arms, but not because I'm cold, but because he's so close to me. I move my body into his arms and lean my head against his chest. The heat radiating from his body feels comforting, somehow, as if it were enough to keep me warm in the coldest of places, the most turbulent of storms. 

"There is something you can do," I murmur into his chest. 

"What is it? I'd do anything." 

I lift my face up to his and look him in the eye. 

"Kiss me." 

He looks surprised, but it's quickly replaced by happiness. "You really mean it?" he breathes. 

I nod. "Yes. I mean it. Kiss me, Hisashi. Just kiss me." 

_Hisashi...? Kiss...?_

He hesitates for a moment, and then he smiles, brightening up the darkened space like sunlight penetrating blankets of dust and mist, breaking into perfect shafts of light. 

He brings his face down to mine, closer, his lips and mine almost touching, and I can feel the warmth of his palm on my face, and he's so close, close enough to melt into. His lips touch mine gently. 

_Hisashi...? Kiss...?_

My eyes fly open. They dart around the room, nervously, and I almost forget to breathe. I touch my face. Still me. I check the room. Still mine. I look around, taking in my prized autographed Jordan jersey that hung on my bedroom wall, my basketball posters, my old writing desk, and most importantly, the absence of another human being. I'm still alone. 

But then, what was Mitsui doing in my room? And why did he leave so abruptly? Was he telling me something about practice? Or... 

Oh, my, god. No way. I did not just dream that...that...oh, my, god. 

I sit up in bed. If I forgot to breathe before, I'm panting and wheezing now. I'm shocked. I can't think. Oh my god. What is happening to me? I can't believe I just dreamt that... 

Dammit, I can't even put it into words. I run my hands through my hair, and in the process, my elbow knocks into something solid and it falls onto the ground. 

My alarm clock. I must have slept through the ringing, as usual. My eyes absent-mindedly settle on the time. 11.14 a.m. 

11.14 a.m.?! Kuso! I'm late for work!   


*****   
  
_"Kiss me, Hisashi. Just kiss me."_

_"You're like heaven to touch, I wanna hold you so much..."_[1] 

_"You're safe with me."_

_"Day after day after all, I will always be true. That's a promise I made to you..."_[2] 

_"I'd do anything."_

_"I'd do anything for you, anything you want me to..."_[3] 

Argh! Get the hell out of my head! Who is this Rukawa Kaede that has gone CRAZY? Who is this demon that invades my body? Who is this mad person who dreamt of his own _basketball teammate_ and him doing...stuff...?! 

I am not in denial. I am fully aware that I dreamt of Mitsui and I doing...stuff. I'm just aghast that something like that creeped into my sleep without me knowing first-hand. I just want to clarify that I am in no way, shape or form in love with Mitsui Hisashi. 

Shit, that very thought sends violent shudders through my body. I'm so disturbed that I don't even dare to go to sleep, and work today is extremely, utterly, absolutely boring and uneventful. 

Mitsui Hisashi, for crying out loud, of all bleeding people! And he, I, we, argh, I can't even say it. 

I don't think I can look the guy in the eye and not fidget or give something away. I don't even want to see his face any longer, but it's just too bad for me that he's in the same team as I and I have to see him practically every day in school. Oh, yeah, and of course, he lives just a few blocks away from where I work. 

Dammit. Why do these things always happen to me? First I lose my yellow/gold butterfly and fall off my chair in class, and off my bike on the way to school. And now I...did things with, um, Mitsui...and actually, um, enjoyed it. 

In my dream, that is. Thinking about it now puts me in potential danger of throwing up my breakfast. Or rather, my digestive juices, considering I skipped breakfast. The _point_ is, that was a horrible, horrible, nightmare, and I don't want to think about it any longer. 

I'm busying myself right now with the cash register. I'm checking the money inside, making sure that the store hasn't been ripped off. Although how that could happen I'm not sure, but who cares? The whole point is to give me something to do so that I can think about something else. Okay, what else can I do? Ah yes, I'd change the CD in the CD player. I'm so sick of listening to this stupid Japanese opera thingy. It sounds like somebody had died and the entire world is in mourning. Utterly depressing stuff. 

I look around for the spare CDs, but I find none. Not even an empty CD case. I think this opera thing is all the boss has. Somebody really has to introduce him to the fourth most wonderful thing in the world: Rock music. (After basketball, sleep, and pizza, in that order.) 

"Rukawa!" 

Damn. It's Bossy Boss. What does he want now? He's called me to do things that isn't in my job description for almost my entire shift. I mean, okay, so I was three hours late, but does he honestly expect human beings to wake up at 7 in the morning just to be in time for an 8 o'clock job? The only reason I'd get up so early on a weekend is to play basketball. 

"Come here!" 

Sighing, I walk over to where Bossy Boss is. He's standing outside the storeroom where they keep the newly-arrived goods. 

"Help me open these boxes here," he instructs. "But keep an eye on the door. If somebody comes in, go back to the counter at once." 

"Hn," I say in reply. He hands me a penknife. I sit down beside the boxes and get to work. 

Even though Bossy Boss said 'help me', he really meant, 'do it all by yourself while I go relax in my office and do things that a teenager like you should be doing, but I'm such an asshole that I cannot care less.' He bolted as soon as I sat on the floor and got started on the first box. There are so many of them, about twenty or so. This will take a while. 

In other words, it will take my mind off the most disturbing dream I ever had. Ever. 

The sharp blade of the penknife slices through the flimsy masking tape, making a sound like knife scratching against bone. Tearing open the box, I look inside. 

And see some guy model with a annoying Sendoh-ish smile, his hair tinted blue. 

_"Kaede...I'm so glad you're here."_

_"Where am I?"_

_"In a safe place. You're safe with me."_

_"Kiss me, Hisashi. Kiss me, Hisashi. Kiss me, Hisashi."_

_"You really mean it?"_

_"Yes. Kiss me, Hisashi. Just kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me."_

FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE! CAN I NEVER GET AWAY FROM THAT HORRIBLE IMAGE? CAN I NEVER ESCAPE THOSE CORNY DIALOGUE? 

Kiss my fucking ASS! 

Jumping up from the floor as if it were on fire, I walk quickly to Bossy Boss's office. Sure enough, he's sitting on his big leather chair with his legs on the table, reading some comic and laughing to himself and spitting every other second. 

Ignoring the disgusting image, I open the door and enter without knocking. 

"I can't work on the boxes." 

He looks up from his comic. He frowns. "What boxes?" 

Telling myself not to punch him in the eye, I answer slowly, "The...boxes...you...asked...me...to...open." 

He looks confused. And then, "Ah! Those boxes! Well, why not?" 

Yes, why not, Rukawa? Besides the very important fact that hair dyes remind you of Mitsui, which in turn reminds you of that heinous dream, which will definitely in turn derail your sanity. But you can't possibly tell the boss, "I had this disturbing dream about a male teammate and I kissing and hair dyes remind me of him because he has dyed blue hair and if I think about that dream further I will definitely go crazy so can I not do this painful job?" 

No, I can't. 

"Hurry up, answer me, I haven't got all day!" 

"I'm allergic to hair dye," I blurt out. And it's not entirely a lie, taking into consideration my current situation. 

Bossy Boss looks at me with unmasked suspicion. I feel my fists clenching. 

"All right then," he finally relents, making it sound like he'd just donated a billion dollars to all charities in the world. "Get somebody to do it for you." 

I breathe a sigh of relief. I turn around and walk out of the room without giving him a second glance. 

"Don't you want to say anything to me?" he yells indignantly after me. 

Um. Whatever.   


***** 

Work is over and I got my paycheck. A whopping grand total of five hundred dollars. Yahoo. I managed to get some female co-worker to do my boxes job for me. She was so excited when I went to talk to her that I almost felt bad about brushing off her date offer, but then again, she is too chirpy and exclamation mark-ish for my liking. I mean, the exchange went something like this: 

Me (tapping Female Co-Worker [FCW] on the shoulder): Hey. 

FCW (jumping at my touch): Oh! Rukawa-kun! Hi! How are you! Isn't the weather beautiful today! 

Me: Yeah. Can you open these boxes for me? 

FCW: Sure! Anything! Anything you want! Do you want me to do anything else! I can take over your shift for you too! 

Me: No. It's okay. 

I turned to go, and then: 

FCW: Rukawa-kun! Do you want to get coffee sometime! Like maybe after work! I know a great place! We could hang out and talk! Wouldn't that be fun! 

Me (back facing her): Not really. 

FCW (not relenting): But you look so stressed out! I think you need a cup of good coffee! I know just the place! And hey! It would be my treat! Okay! 

Me (back still facing her, walking to counter): Whatever. 

FCW (still not relenting, following me to counter): Come on! Just go with me! I promise you'd like it! Don't you like coffee! Everybody likes coffee! 

Me (giving Killer Eye): Get out of my face. 

So now I'm heading for a sports store to get myself a new pair of socks. I dropped one of my pair out of the window when attempting to hang clothes to dry, and despite rushing downstairs to retrieve it, it completely disappeared. Mother suggested that perhaps somebody stole it but who in the world would want to steal a pair of old, ratty, dirty socks? 

I select the cheapest pair. Wow, it's manufactured by ABC company! Astounding! 

I look longingly at the Nike and Addidas and Reebok socks on display, but unfortunately, they cost twice and thrice the price of ABC socks. Oh well, it's just socks. Who really cares? 

I'm about to head for the cashier to pay for my thing when I catch sight of a row of mountain bikes on display. As if in a trance, I walk towards them. 

One particular bike attracts my attention. It is pink and bright and loud, just like mine, the bike I thought had died and gone to heaven but instead miraculously returned to my side. I trace the surface of the bike with my fingers lightly. Now I'm reminded of my unsolved mystery. The one I discovered yesterday. And I feel a chill go through my body. 

More than ever, I'm convinced I'm totally losing it. And it's not just about the bike. Because right in front of my very eyes is a person looking at the very same bike. That isn't a problem. It's his hair. It's blue. Like a certain somebody's. 

_"Just kiss me, Hisashi. Just kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me."_

Enough is freaking enough! This is insane! I'm reminded of him everywhere I go, and hence am reminded of that dream. I have to get away. 

I'm so wrapped up in trying to get that mental image of Mitsui and I doing...stuff...from my dream out of my head that I don't even realise that the person in front of me is talking. 

"...to ride on, isn't it?" 

"Huh?" 

"It's a great bike to ride on, isn't it?" 

I nod numbly, but I'm not paying attention. Suddenly the store has become crowded. I can't even see where the cashier is. 

Wait a minute. This voice is familiar. I take a closer look at him. And my eyes widen. 

"Mitsui!" I yelp. 

He looks up from the bike and raises an eyebrow. "Um, yes?" 

Mitsui is standing in front of me. Mitsui is looking at the bike I'm looking at. Mitsui is talking to me. Mitsui is looking at me. 

"Why are you looking like you've seen a ghost?" 

Because I freaking have! The ghost that is my dream! Shit, I have to get out of here, before I _really_ lose it. I intend to go to the NBA before they slap me in a straitjacket and right now, I'm obviously nowhere _near_ the league. I have to get out of here. _Now._

"I gotta go," I mumble. Without waiting for a reply, I turn around quickly and walk out of the store. 

Immediately, alarm signals go off. I stop dead in my tracks. And realise that I forgot to pay for my socks.   
  


* * *

  
[1] Lyric taken from "Can't Take My Eyes Off You" by I don't know who.   
[2] Lyric taken from "A Promise I Made" by Dakota Moon   
[3] Lyric taken from "Anywhere For You" by the Backstreet Boys (but we all know they didn't write the song. Duh).   
  
Please convert dollars to yen mentally. Thank you. 

Yaoi was quite fun to write. I'd definitely do a proper one someday. Sorry for throwing in the oldest and most annoying cliche in the book but I had to. You all understand, don't you?? 

Did anybody notice that Rukawa's female co-worker ended every single sentence with an exclamation mark? Isn't that totally annoying? 

chescaOtaku: Aww thanks for your kind words. =) I really appreciate it. =) 

unchained: I got Jurong but I'm appealing to various JCs 'cause Jurong is like, kind of far and I can't really be bothered to travel all the way there when I don't even know the way. Truth be told, I'd rather do a film course at Ngee Ann Poly. But what the hell. I'm glad you got the college of your choice. =) Congrats. 

lambie: Movies? Slam Dunk movies? What's that? So today I was at Ginza Plaza (somewhere in the West Coast) and I went into this store called Games Express or something and they apparently have undubbed SD VCDs. But, the catch is, they sell the whole series in two sets and the first set is in Chinese, the second Japanese. But because they sell it together, you have to buy the whole thing. And guess how much it costs? Ninety-whopping-dollars. Wonderful, isn't it? Oh well, good luck looking and if you find anything tell me too hor!!! 

sLL: Hahaha yeah Mitsui's gangster friend was CRYING! So cute! I hope the dream sequence satisfied you, I wrote it 'cause you kept mentioning it and I got REALLY tempted. It's your fault. This fic originally started as a Mitsui/Rukawa friendship kinda thing so I'll try to steer it in that direction, but I'm not making any promises. 

White Meteor: Jin has wonderful eyes. But my darling Mitchy wins him hands-down for the title for 'Best Three-Point Shooter'. =) Thanks for the bike idea. I'll think about it. 

jashuang: Okay, thanks, I'll go check it out sometime next week. 

tensaispira: hahahaha you're funny. I don't know why. You just are. Hahahahaha. 

So folks Singapore is out of the Tiger Cup which is too bad but oh well, at least we played a good game. This is getting WAY too long so I'll shut up now. 

-Yelen (rules!!!!!!!) missy_hissy14@winningteam.com 


	9. There Is No Catch

Chapter Nine: There Is No Catch

After almost thirty minutes of run-in with the sports store's security and my saying again and again that no, I did not intend to steal the socks and yes, I genuinely forgot to pay for them and no, my intention was not malicious, I finally got off the hook and am allowed to go. By now I'm so irritated and tired that I don't even care if they decide to lock me up in prison for a shoplifting I didn't even think of committing. At least I'd get rest time in jail. 

"Be more careful next time!" one of the guards shout after me as I make my way home. His caution is definitely unnecessary, as, no matter what, I'm never going to have another dream like the one I had last night ever again. _No matter what_. 

Just then, the last person I want to see in the entire world runs up to me and taps me on the shoulder. I flinch slightly, but he doesn't seem to notice. 

"Hey. Did you really forget to pay for the socks?" 

"God-freaking-dammit, yes!" I yell. I have enough of this 'did you take it did you not did you really forget' crap. I have been through it for thirty minutes and I'm tired, irritated and annoyed. All I want to do now is to go home, take a shower, lie on my bed and fall asleep. I don't even care about dreaming right now, because I'm not going to dream about Mitsui ever again, _no matter what_. And for some reason he simply has to come up to me while I'm pissed beyond reason and irritated me _all over again_. For heaven's sake, I wouldn't ask this idiot to kiss me even if he were the last person alive in the world. 

"Whoa, whoa, chill out," he says, holding up his hands as though defending himself from my wrath. "Sorry. I didn't mean to make you mad." 

"Then get away from me," I snap. I quicken my pace, cutting through lanes and roads and weaving through the crowds of people that are walking by, shaking Mitsui off and leaving him behind. I half-expect him to catch up with me but when I turn around to check, he's gone. 

***** 

My mother is drinking beer when I reach home. Sitting on one of the old sofas, leaning against the soft cushion with a can of beer held up to her lips. I do a quick beer count. Surprisingly, this seems to be her second. 

"How was work, Kaede?" 

Surprise number two. She hardly realises that I'm home, let alone that I'm home from work. Normally, I'd be home from work and she would ask, "How was school, Kaede?" Or even better, "Were you in the toilet just now, Kaede?" 

"Fine," I answer. 

"Did you get your new pair of socks?" 

Surprise number three. She never remembers anything that happens in the house, let alone something as mundane as my socks dropping out of the window. 

"Yeah," I reply. 

Something is going on. It's obvious. First, she's drank only two cans of beer thus far. I know this, because she always leave empty beer cans lying around on the floor, waiting -- or rather, expecting -- for me to pick them up, assuming that I give enough of a shit to do so (I usually don't). Second, she noticed that I came home from work. Third, she remembered my socks. 

What's going on? 

I don't really want to ask but curiosity got the better of me. I place my rear end on one of the chairs littered around and drop my new purchase to the floor. 

"Hey Mom, is anything going on?" I ask, discarding subtlety and opting for being direct. 

It takes a while for her to answer. It takes a while too for her to look at me for the first time since I got home. And when she does, she looks different, as if she'd gone for a make-over that has changed her completely. 

"Actually, yes," she answers. "Though I don't know if I should tell you." 

Now curiosity is killing me. "Tell me. I want to know." 

"Well," she says slowly, purposely dragging out the time between now and later. "Well, I got a job." 

"Oh," I say. Then, the implication of her words fully sink in. 

"Oh!" I say again, with more life this time. "Seriously? You got a job? Where? How? When?" 

"Hold the questions!" she laughs. "You're even more excited than I am over this. Well I got a teaching job at the local college of art. The pay is pretty good, enough to cover us both without you having to work. I know how difficult it is for you to wake up at 7 a.m. every Saturdays and Sundays and you're almost always late for work anyway. Don't protest, you know it's true, you sleep like a log. Anyway, I went for a job interview yesterday after deciding to get my act together and they gave me the job right away." 

"Just like that?" I ask, unable to believe what she's saying. The magnitude of her announcement is so great that I'm completely overwhelmed. This may mean a new life for us both, one without alcoholism, estranged relations and perpetual coldness under the same roof. 

"Just like that," she confirms with a smile. 

Still unable to digest everything, I ask again, "What's the catch?" 

She looks surprised. "Kaede, there is no catch. Don't you get it? I got a job as a teacher and it's working out. For once in my life after the divorce I feel like I'm heading somewhere. Aren't you happy for me? For us?" 

"Yeah, I am," I manage to say. 

I am happy for my mother. In fact, I'm ecstatic. But, call me jaded if you must, I can't help but feel that somewhere in this seemingly seamless new turn of events, something is bound to go wrong. For all my life, things has never failed to go wrong. Why should this be any different? 

"You're worried, aren't you," she states finally. "You're worried that something may go wrong." 

I start to deny it, but then, what the heck. Might as well vanquish the demon in its cave. 

I nod. I'm not looking at my mother, but she comes over to my side and bends down in front of me. She takes my hands and envelopes them securely in hers. 

"Kaede, look at me," she implores. I look at her. "Am I drunk?" 

I shake my head. 

"I'm sober as I talk to you," she continues. "This is for real. I have this incredible chance to turn things around, and I'm not letting it get away. Trust me, Kaede. Things _will_ be different." 

I want to believe her. More than anything, I want to trust her. She's my mother. Who else can I trust if I can't trust her? 

The answer seems to be no one, just like Mitsui has said. Trust no one. 

Still, the rekindled spark in her eyes hint at a new beginning, at a welcomed change that isn't intangible. 

Because it's looking right at me.   


***** 

My mother is an artist. She paints, she sketches, she draws, she sculpts. She knows the distinct difference between 'film' and 'movie'. She excels in even theatre and dance. But she's an artist at heart, and she used to paint beautiful pictures of sunrise and sunset, of rivers and lakes, of people and animals, of anything and everything when we were still a family with that paternal figure called Dad. For whatever reason, she stopped doing art the day 'Dad' packed up and left without a second glance. 

So I suppose I'm at a pivotal point of my teenage years where things could either improve or remain stagnant. If I look it it this way, I suppose, for my mother and I, there is nothing for us to lose. 

***** 

When I'm up for school my mother has already left the apartment. I find a note stuck on the refrigerator that says, "Kaede, breakfast is inside. Or get your own. See you tonight. Love, Mom." 

I open the fridge. Ooh, corn flakes! I hate corn flakes. 

Nevertheless, I take out the bowl of dried wheat which has turned into a soggy mess and choke the entire thing down, not leaving even a drop of milk behind. 

***** 

Riding to school I fell asleep again, but luckily for me, I didn't crash into anything catastrophic. It was only Sakuragi that I banged into. 

"Baka kitsune!" he yelled after me as I nonchalantly pedalled away without a backward glance. It was his fault for not looking at where he was going. 

Main Agenda For Today: Avoid Mitsui Hisashi at all costs. That is, until basketball practice. Even then, don't speak to him. Don't look at him. Don't pass the ball to him. Just ignore him and get on with life. 

Seriously, if I were Sigmund Freud, I'd be analysing all sorts of rubbish into my disturbing dream right now. I suppose it's something that would keep dream analysts busy in their offices (do they work in offices? Do I care?) for days to come. I mean, the kiss has to be quite significant, considering it came after I spilled my guts to Mitsui, even though I can't really remember what I said. 

Doesn't matter though. It was just a dream. That's all. Last night's sleep was rather peaceful, besides being chased by screaming girls all over school and being trapped in the gym with no means of escape, so I think that it was just a one-time thing. Nothing more. 

Sitting in class waiting for the teacher to arrive. I'm having Mathematics. I'm bored. I'm sleepy. This sucks. 

"...study for the test?" 

"Yeah. I heard it's a total killer." 

"What is it on?" 

"Differentiation. The whole thing. Including trigonometry functions and such. Didn't you listen to Nozuri-sensei last week?" 

"Well, no..." 

I sigh. Who would listen to that dough-faced joke of a Maths teacher? Listening to him makes my IQ drop about fifty points. Which is why I didn't know about the test. 

Ah well. Differentiation is a piece of cake. Used to be 'Dad's favourite topic. Couldn't stop telling me about it when I was a kid of eleven or twelve, even though I was more interested in playing basketball and watching the NBA. He had some twisted notion that 'his' Rukawa Kaede were a genius and were able to absorb information that were absolutely useless to him back then. I knew differentiation at age 12. I knew more than half of my Physics text at age 13. And languages, I speak them fluently. 

'Dad' is an absolute psycho. I'm just thankful for my memory. Everything to him had some kind of insane 'learning purpose' behind them. Like that trip to France. It was to 'strengthen Kaede's command of the French language and to widen his appreciation of French culture.' He never let me do anything for the fun of it. Not even basketball. 

What was it that he said about basketball? Oh, yeah. _"Basketball is good for you, Kaede. It helps you keep fit. Yes, it's a good sport. You should keep yourself healthy."_

He spewed that bullshit to a boy of six. I didn't play basketball for health benefits. I did it because it looked like fun. And I'm doing it because I love it. 

If there was one thing that 'Dad' did right, it was to encourage me to play, although his reason at that time actually disqualifies it. Everything else was redundant. Pure, utter crap. 

And the day he left...well, who cares? It's over. 

***** 

Test is over. I can probably ace it. Although why I bother, I don't know. 

Oh yeah. I want to stay on the team. Right. 

Man Kaede, you're being such a good boy! It's so sickening. When was the last time you actually handed up a completed test answer script? Like, two years ago? 

Things are changing. Definitely changing. 

Anyway, I'm walking towards the cafeteria, hands jammed in pockets, trying to keep my eyes open. I wonder what inspired Mom to clean up her act. It sure did take her long enough to do so. Oh well. At least I get to sleep in during the weekends now. 

"Rukawa!" 

It's a male voice so I turn around. Terrible, terrible mistake. It's Mitsui. 

"TURN AND RUN!!!!! NOW!!!!!" 

That's my brains screaming at me. 

"Um...um...!!!!!" 

That's my body being a 'deer-in-the-headlights' idiot. 

Strangely, he isn't smiling, the way he does around people he knows. He nods at me curtly. He doesn't look more please than I feel that he has to talk to me. 

"Practice is cancelled for today. Tell the other Year Ones. But be back on Saturday for intensive training." 

I barely have time to nod, let alone ask why, before he brushes by and walks off, not giving me even a backward glance. 

So. He's giving me the cold shoulder. Just as well; makes life easier. 

But...what did I do? 

***** 

I can't believe I'm doing this. Ice is melting around the world, especially in the North pole, and if ice continues to melt, the world would be flooded and we don't want that. And ice is essential for living, because without ice, the world will become over-heated... 

Argh. Stop rambling. Just do this and get it over with. 

I scan the crowded cafeteria for the familiar blue-black hair and spot him sitting at a table by the windows with his gangster friends, the ones I beat up that time at the rooftop sometime back. I walk over to them and tap Mitsui on the shoulder. 

"Oi." 

He turns, looks at me, and his smile immediately leaves his face. 

"What do you want?" he says, looking as if he'd just tasted something sour and can't wash it out of his mouth. 

I glance at his friends, who're looking at me with perplexity stamped clearly on their faces. I jerk my head to one side, gesturing for him to speak with me privately. He looks reluctant but he gets up anyway. 

"What's up?" he asks once we're away from his friends. He doesn't sound happy to be doing this. 

Dropping subtlety and heading for the kill, I say, "You pissed with me?" 

Mitsui frowns. Probably wondering if I hurt my head on the way to school. 

"What is it to you?" 

I purse my lips. He really can afford to make this easier for me, the idiot. What does he want me to do, get down on my knees and beg with him to talk to me the way he used to? And when he asks why, what do I say? Because I'm used to him being around and it's weird when he's not? And when he asks why again, will he be satisfied with 'I don't know'? Because I really don't know why. Why do I care if he's mad? Why do I care if he doesn't want to talk to me? Why do I care at all? I haven't the slightest clue. 

"Just wondering." Not the best answer, but he'd have to do with that. 

He eyes me suspiciously. "Did somebody put you up to this? Is this a dare or something? Is Sakuragi waiting somewhere behind, getting ready to jump out and laugh his stupid obnoxious laughter anytime? Is this a joke?" 

God, he's impossible. I just swallowed my pride and asked him if he's angry at me and that's the way he deals with it? This isn't worth it. At all. 

"No. I'm serious." 

I hate myself. Initial plan was to glare at him and stalk off. Guess it didn't work. 

"Really," I add as an incentive when he doesn't answer. 

Okay Kaede, shut up now. It's his turn to talk. You said three words and now he has to say four. It's how it works. Calm down, stop holding your breath and just relax. And wait for the bloody idiot to talk. 

What the hell? Why is he looking at me like that? He is _grinning_ all of a sudden. Do'ahou... 

"I get it," he finally says. There is a funny glint in his eyes. "I know why you're doing this." 

"Why?" I ask warily, not wanting to know but not being able to restrain from asking either. 

"Because," he announces grandly, "you're in love with me and you can't take that I'm ignoring you." He grins triumphantly. 

I narrow my eyes. "Nani? I'm not in love with you, stupid egoistic jerk." 

_But you did dream about kissing him, _a voice in my head taunts. 

_Yeah, but that's a one-time thing, _I retort. _Go to hell and never come back._

"Ah, this is the Rukawa we all know and love. Pretty sharp with your tongue, ain't ya?" He shakes his head. 

Call me slow, if you must. In fact, call me stupid. Retarded. Whatever. It was only when I started to retort that I realised Mitsui is being his usual self again. Around me. He's joking with me, taking digs at my cold-as-ice personality. 

It's almost enough to make me smile. But not quite. 

"I _was_ pissed at you," he is saying. "You were so rude to me yesterday and it pissed me off. Although I think I should've expected it but still, you could've been nicer. I mean, I was just joking and you made it sound like I was insulting your basketball skills or something. You were mental." 

"I was pretty irritated," I mumble. "You know, with the questionings and all." 

"Yeah, okay, I understand," he concedes. "Well, I'm not pissed anymore, if you want to know. And hell, I'm hungry, so if you don't mind..." he gestures towards his table. "I'm going to eat." 

I nod silently. He gives me a thumbs-up sign and goes away. 

Is there a catch to this? 

Why am I even thinking that? 

Kaede, you just have to understand that sometimes in life, there is no catch. 

This is such a time.   


* * *

  
THIS IS NOT A YAOI FIC. The dream was just a one-time thing. So, yeah, it's not yaoi. 

sLL: LOL, I'm glad you liked the dream sequence. If this fic is a great background for a MitRu, it's definitely unintentional. I do see where you're coming from though. Whenever I write scenes between Ru and Mitchy, I keep getting the urge to make this yaoi. Haha. I may attempt a MitRu one day, who knows? =) I just saw the second episode that features Sakuragi with a shaved head. I love it!!! So much!! Mitsui is such a genius! Isn't he! 

fourteen: Yeah you're right, Ru's fans will bury him in branded socks. Hmm, interesting... 

qianhui: Awww you like Mitchy too! I have a Mitchy shirt and he's sooooo cute on it. =) 

White Meteor: Um I thought his bike is supposed to be pink. I keep reading that his bike is pink and because I haven't finished the series, I took everyone's word for it. And sLL did say that his bike is really pink. I don't know though. And hello, who won MVP in junior high? Who missed 2 years of basketball and yet came back with a vengeance? Who is naturally talented? Even Jin's coach said that he doesn't have talent! Helloooo!! It's obvious that Mitchy's much better! Bwahahahahahahahaha! 

hagane: Um, Mitsui's mine. Didn't you see what my pen name is? Hisashi Loves Yelen. Yelen = me. Not you. So nyah! =) Thanks for the reviews! 

lambie: No, you weren't the first reviewer. Thanks for that comprehensive SD VCD info. I wonder if the SD movies you saw are the same ones as the DVDs I saw on ebay.com. I think the DVDs on ebay come with Chinese/English (can't remember which) subtitles... but I don't know what they're about 'cause the sellers never even say! Idiots! 

unchained: I live in Bt. Batok. It's certainly a small country. Or maybe you just have a lot of friends. Haha.   
  
Merry Christmas everybody. Some parts of this chapter don't make sense but nevermind. 

-Yelen (is a genius) missy_hissy14@winningteam.com 


	10. Just Me

Disclaimer: Yeah. Not mine. Go sue somebody else. 

* * *

Chapter Ten: Just Me

On my way to the Chemistry lab now. It's the last lesson of the day. Miraculously, I managed to stay awake the entire day. That is, I kept my eyes open and stare at a spot above the teachers' head to create an impression that I'm awake. Inside though, I dozed through everything. 

Oh, my, god. What is that big gang of people I see running towards me? I squint a bit. Darn. A crowd of females. Half of them crying. A quarter looking like they're going to faint. The rest trying to act cool. 

I'm in trouble. 

"RUKAWA-KUN! CAN WE HAVE YOUR AUTOGRAPH PLEASE!" 

"Hi Rukawa-kun, do you remember me from the Shoyo match? I was cheering for you! I called your name and you looked at me, do you remember?" 

"Ahhh! Rukawa-kun! Please shake my hand!" 

"Rukawa-kun, you're the best and most gorgeous basketball player I've ever seen! You're even better than Michael Jackson* and Kobe O'Neal**! You should play for the Fakers***!" 

On and on they go. I'm surrounded by a gang of crazy females with no means of escape, and I'm already late for class. They're all sticking their arms out and grabbing at my clothes, and even though I'm holding my arms up to my face to ward off their dirty, disgusting fingerprints, a few manage to get through anyway. All of them are screeching and yelling in my face, some spitting unknowingly, and I can smell what a few of them had for lunch. 

Trust me, it is not a pretty sight. This is truly hell on Earth. 

I try to squeeze through the horde of female bodies but to no avail. None of them is moving even an inch away from me. 

I sigh. My fist is all ready to strike out at the nearest Screaming Female but I don't. My mother would not be proud. She's taught me from young to never hit a woman, no matter what. I guess this situation qualifies as 'no matter what.' 

When I'm about to resign to my fate, a miracle happens. Out of the blur of female bodies and faces suddenly comes a face that I recognise. He does a double take when he sees that I'm trapped in a human cage and bursts out laughing. 

Guess who it is? None other than Mitsui Hisashi. 

With him though is Kogure. Unlike a certain Mitsui, he isn't laughing. He looks genuinely shocked and amazed. 

Kogure is saying something to Mitsui that I can't make out. Mitsui only laughs harder. He's shaking his head and nodding in my direction. They're obviously talking about me. 

The females have not given up even though I didn't even bother to acknowledge their presence, save for me holding my arms up to my face. Somebody is tugging at my Chemistry book. I yank my book away and accidentally jab my elbow into some girl's face. She cries out in pain. 

Or so I thought. 

"Oh my god, Rukawa-kun touched me!" she squeals noisily. 

I feel a migraine coming on. Why do these things always happen to me? I've seen cuter guys around the school, for crying out loud. I'm not even a superstar. What do they want from me? 

"Rukawa! Do you want our help?" 

Thank heavens for Kogure. He is a true saint. I nod quickly in reply and notice that Mitsui is smirking and still laughing away. He wouldn't find it so funny if it were happening to him, that bloody idiot. 

The two of them start to make their way to where I'm stuck at. I watch with masked interest, curious to find out how they're going to accomplish such a difficult feat. 

"Excuse me, excuse me..." 

That's Kogure. 

"Hey, piss off, get out of my way!" 

That's Mitsui. 

Kogure taps a few girls on the shoulder and asks them politely to let him pass, whereas Mitsui forcefully shoves girls out of his way, not even caring that some of them fell on their butts. Kogure is telling Mitsui to be gentle, but Mitsui only snorts and says, "Gentle? With these creatures? Can't you see that they're assaulting our team-mate?" 

Finally, they got to me. Kogure offers me a hand. I hesitate, but when I look at the unrelenting faces around me -- "Oh my god, he looked at me!" -- I hastily grab it. 

Kogure starts to pull me out of the circle that I'm trapped in. Mitsui is doing his part by pushing girls away from me and out of our path. A few of them recoil at the sight of Mitsui, perhaps afraid that he may suddenly go berserk and beat them up, considering he was infamous as a gangster before he converted and rejoined the team. 

It must be pretty cool to have people afraid of you. At least then you wouldn't get into such sticky and irritating situations. 

Finally. I can breathe again. They've got me out of the jam. 

"Thanks," I mumble. I steal a quick look behind me. Fortunately, a teacher is yelling at them to go back to class, the rest of the school is trying to have lessons and why are they making such a racket in the middle of the hallway anyway, do they want detention after school? 

"No problem," Kogure replies with a smile. 

"Man, Rukawa," Mitsui says, shaking his head. "Your popularity is insane. Only pop stars and the like get mobbed like this. I mean, I'm a super cute MVP and that's never happened to me before." He pats me on the head. "Poor thing." 

I jerk my head away. "Don't try to be funny," I warn. 

Mitsui just laughs. 

"Seriously though, how do you put up with it? It looks like hell." 

I glance at Kogure. "I don't. I just ignore them." 

"But they're not getting the message, are they?" 

"Obviously not," Mitsui pipes up. "They're extremely empty-headed. You can tell by the size of their chest." 

Kogure groans. "What has that got to do with anything?" 

"Big chested girls are usually bimbos. Don't you watch TV?" 

"It's not nice to stereotype." 

"Who cares? It's true." 

"It's a _stereotype_. Stereotypes aren't true." 

"In this case, they are." 

"I thought I was talking to Rukawa." 

"Yeah but you didn't say it was a private conversation." 

"But you interrupted us. He hasn't even answered my question." 

"So ask him again. Man, you're such a whiner." 

"I am WHAT?" 

"A whiner. One who whines. You know, one who goes, 'waa waa waa.'" 

"Cut it out, Mitsui." 

"What is it to you, Rukawa?" 

"You're giving me a headache." 

"Hey, I rescued you from that crazy mob!" 

"You and Kogure." 

"Exactly, I did it with you, Mitsui. It wasn't just you." 

"But I did most of the work! They wouldn't have moved if it were Kogure there alone. They're scared of me." 

"Are you trying to say that I'm not scary?" 

"No, I'm not trying to say that, you already know it." 

"Nani?!" 

"Chemistry lab. Ja ne." 

Without waiting for an answer, I leave them both to their bickering and step into the lab. And that is that. My poor ears. They hurt. 

***** 

The first thing that greets me when I step into the Chemistry lab is the teacher's message. He doesn't even need to look up to know that it's me. Probably because I'm twenty minutes late. 

It's all the stupid girls' fault. 

"Rukawa, go to the principal's office now." 

Great. I'm in trouble. It's so unfair. I didn't even ask for any of the attention. I mean, I'm just me, not Michael Jordan, for crying out loud. And I'm not even all that good-looking. 

Sighing mentally, I head for the principal's office. 

***** 

"Rukawa Kaede. Sit down." 

I sit. The principal -- didn't quite catch his name -- stares down at me, his glasses perching precariously on the bridge of his nose. He's probably trying to create an intimidating effect. Well, his retarded tactics aren't working on me. 

I stare back at him coolly, my face an emotionless blank. I can swear that I see him flinch a little bit. 

"You have yourself quite an amazing record, young man. You were twenty minutes late for Chemistry today. You have been failing the subject the entire year. You have also been failing pretty much all of your classes. What do you have to say for yourself?" 

Absolutely nothing. I shrug. This is so amazingly boring. 

The principal's eyes narrow. I guess he expected some sort of response from me. He probably gets it from the other students. Poor guy doesn't even know who he's dealing with. 

"You're on the basketball team, aren't you." 

Jeez. Don't tell me he's going to threaten me with _that_. Man, am I unlucky or what? He hasn't even seen how I aced the differentiation test today. And I was that late for Chemistry only because those stupid girls wouldn't leave me the hell alone. I could've made it ten minutes earlier if I didn't run into that block of human barricade. 

"What has that got to do with anything?" 

My voice is cold, hard, spiteful, exactly the way I practised it over the past couple of years until I perfected it. Dear principal wasn't expecting that either. It's painfully obvious from the way his lips are immediately drawn into a thin line as soon as those words escaped from my mouth. 

"It has everything to do with everything," he replies evenly, making a conscious and obvious effort to keep his voice level. "You won't get to play if you don't improve your grades. Do you understand?" 

"Sure," I say. "Are we done?" 

"No, we're not," he snaps. "While you're at that, ask your fans to stop mobbing you in the middle of hallways. It's distracting to the other students who are actually interested in getting an education." 

Goodness gracious me. I so do not believe this. He's blaming the crazy antics of my so-called fans on _me_? Does he actually think I _enjoy_ all that attention? Who is he kidding? 

"Do'ahou." 

Okay, that probably wasn't the best way to deal with it, but it just slipped out. Couldn't help it, really. The principal really is one. Anyone who thinks I like being mobbed and being screamed at like I'm some specimen in a bloody zoo deserves to be called a do'ahou, because they truly are. Stupid, stupid people. 

"Rukawa Kaede, I have never, in my forty years of being an educator, seen a student as rude and as imprudent as you are. No wonder you're failing all of your classes! You do not have respect for anybody, except yourself. You're self-centred and arrogant, and you refuse to listen to anybody because you think you're always right! Don't you! Don't you dare to think that you can have your way however you like just because you're some basketball superstar in the eyes of most of the students! You're still a student of Shohoku High, not an NBA player! Do you understand me!" 

I'm glaring at the principal now. I can't believe what he just said. He's talking as if he knows me. Analysing my character as if he has the right to do so. And why? Just because he's the freaking principal? And so what? Does that make him a better person than I am? 

"No." 

"You say that again! Who do you think you are? Some hot-shot superstar?" 

I shrug again. "I'm just Rukawa Kaede. Just me." 

With that, I stand up, give the principal one last glare, turn around and walk out of the room. 

***** 

I _am_ just Rukawa Kaede, and I genuinely don't get all the fuss about me. Of course I notice it. I'd be blind not to. Deaf too not to hear the loud screaming and chanting of my name at every match and every practice session. Girls practically fall at my feet wherever I go. I don't even know why. I look into the mirror every day, trying to figure out what it is that they see that is so appealing, but the only thing I see is, well, me. Just me. 

I'm just Rukawa Kaede. The boy without a father. 

What the hell is so special about that? 

***** 

I'm in a cyber cafe, about to log into my email account. I haven't done so in about a couple of weeks. It's two dollars gone every hour of Internet access and I spend most of my free time playing basketball anyway. Sometimes I do think I have no life, but I like it this way. 

Bloody hell, Mitsui and Sakuragi have been flooding my mailbox with useless forwards! "Send this to twenty people and have your wish come true"? "If you don't send this to fifty people this poor boy with cancer will die"? Are there even any real messages in here? 

Oh looky, a survey. "Send this to all your friends and have them send it back to you!" I check my watch. What the hell, I have lots of time to kill. I'll just do it. 

[A/N: Words in italics are his thoughts.] 

--   
From: rukie11@hotmail.com   
To: mrhandsome@hotmail.com, tensaisakuragi@yahoo.com, i_love_ayachan@hotmail.com, akagi_t@hotmail.com, cool-gure@yahoo.com   
Subject: Re: !!!!!SURVEY!!!!! 

> You-   
>   
> Full Name: rukawa kaede   
> Name you go by in school: rukawa. _Like I'd admit to anything else._   
> Nicknames: none. _'Kitsune' isn't one._   
> How old are you: 16.   
> What state do you live in: kanagawa.   
> What colour is your hair: black.   
> What colour are your eyes: blue.   
> Are you allergic to anything: the do'ahou. _He should be flattered that I acknowledged his existence._   
> What grade are you in: first year.   
> When is your birthday: jan 1.   
> What is your favourite subject in school: none.   
> Why is this: school is boring.   
>   
> -Favourites-   
>   
> What is your favourite sport to play: basketball. _Obviously._   
> What is your favourite sport to watch: basketball.   
> What is your favourite football team: dont watch football.   
> What is your favourite basketball team: washington wizards.   
> What is your favourite food: pizza.   
> What is your favourite movie: space jam._ Go, MJ!_   
> Why: michael jordan.   
> What is your favourite band: nirvana.   
> Where is your favourite place in the whole world: basketball courts.   
>   
> -Family-   
>   
> Who do you live with: ...   
> Are they: Married? Divorced? Remarried? Separated?   
> Never married?: none of your business. _I'm not going to tell._   
> If you could choose who would your parent's be: _Definitely not 'Dad'._ i dont care.   
> Do you like your parents: _Only my mom._ ...   
> Who are your other relatives: the usual. _Haven't seen them in ages..._   
> If you could adopt a friend which friend would you adopt: no. _What the hell..._   
> Do you have any pets: no.   
>   
> -Friends-   
>   
> Who is your best friend in the world: _What is a 'best friend'?_ nobody.   
> Which of your friends is the... _Shit, what the hell do I do with this?_   
> -Quietest: _Obviously it's me but am I a friend to myself? _i dont know.   
> -Loudest: _The do'ahou but he isn't my friend._ nobody.   
> -Funniest: _This really sucks._ ...   
> -Sweetest: _I think I'm skipping this bit. _HARUKO-SAN!!!!!!!   
> -Coolest: The tensai, SAKURAGI!! NYAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! And Youhei!   
> -Dumbest: Baka Rukawa but he isn't the tensai's friend. _Do'ahou..._   
> -Most like you: Nobody is like the tensai because the tensai is one of a kind!! Nyahahahahahahahahahaha!!!   
> -Most important to you: My guntai! And haruko-san!!!   
> -Tallest: Gori the giant, NYAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!   
> -Smallest: Ryochin! Bwahahahahahahahahahaha!!!   
>   
> -Love- _Yare yare..._   
>   
> Who was your first boyfriend/girlfriend: _Shino._ none of your business.   
> Was he/she cool: _Extremely._ fuck off.   
> Are you dating anyone right now: _Uh, right._ no.   
> Do you have a crush on anyone: _Crushes? Me? Get out of here._ no.   
> Do you have a boyfriend/girlfriend: no.   
> Why do you like the person you are dating or have a crush on: _Who gives a shit...? _gr jhjgwh gw.   
> Would you marry them: _I wouldn't get married ever. _no   
> Where was your first date: _Her apartment._ none of your business.   
> Have you ever been on a date: _Of course._ ...   
> Who was the first person that you ever loved: _Shino. _my mother.   
> Do looks matter: _Shino was beautiful._ whatever.   
> If you could go back out with someone who you went out with before who would it be: _Shino but I don't know..._ blah.   
>   
> -Have you ever-   
>   
> Cheated: _Can't be bothered to. _no.   
> Gotten drunk: no.   
> Watched porn: no. _Okay, just once or twice._   
> Kissed someone: no. _Yes._   
> Lied to a teacher: duh.   
> Been in a police car: no.   
> Started to cry in school: never. _When was the last time I cried...?_   
> Had sex: _Almost. _no.   
> Been beaten up: _When I was younger. _no.   
> Beaten anyone up: _Hotta and gang, anyone? Sakuragi "do'ahou" Hanamichi, for example? _ya.   
> Cried because of a movie: no.   
>   
> -Present-   
> Who sent this to you: sakuragi.   
> Do you know them: _Unfortunately, yes. _ya   
> Are they cool: _Of course not! _of course not.   
> What is the last thing you said: dont know.   
> Who is the last person that you talked to: the principal.   
> Do you have homework: i guess. _Who cares._   
> What are you goals at the moment: _To become the best player in Japan. _to win kainan. _Less letters to type._

After the email has sent, I check my watch again. Oh fan-bloody-tastic. I've used up fifty-five minutes already. I haven't even went on nba.com yet. 

Stupid Sakuragi. This is all his fault. 

I'm never doing another survey for as long as I live. 

***** 

The phone is ringing off the hook when I open the door to my apartment after shooting some hoops at the court near my house. I almost trip and fall on something on my way in but I don't stop to see what it is. I dump my bag by the door and dash to the telephone, which is in the kitchen, which is about thirty steps away from the front door. 

The phone is such a nuisance. I snatch up the receiver. 

"Yeah?" I bark, irritated. 

"Kaede?" 

It's a woman. Who is not my mother. 

"Yeah?" I say again. 

"Is your mother there?" 

I frown. Who the hell is this woman? 

"No. Who are you?" 

"I'm your aunt Vira." 

Um. I have an aunt Vira? Oh, yeah, I have an aunt Vira. My mother's younger sister. Whom I haven't seen in years. 

"Oh," I reply. What does she want? And why a call out of the blue when she's been out of touch for more than two years? 

"Well, do you know when she'll be back?" 

"No." 

"Um, okay," she replies, sounding uncertain. "Can you ask her to call me?" 

"Hn." 

"Um, is that you, Kaede?" 

Do'ahou. Obviously it's me. I thought I just told her. 

"Yeah." 

"Okay, well, nice talking to you..." 

"Yeah." I hang up the phone.   
  
What did I tell you about things beginning to change? Talk about a surprising blast from the past! Aunt Vira, eh? I try to picture how she looks like but my mind draws a total blank. Not even the slightest vague image appears. 

And I'm supposed to have a photogenic memory. Yeah right. 

I go and retrieve my bag. And then I realise that I didn't ask for Aunt Vira's number. 

Faaaaantastic. 

* * *

  
*Mistake is intentional. The girl-fan means Michael Jordan, of course. Bwahahahahaha.   
**Another intentional mistake. She means either Kobe Bryant or Shaquille O'Neal. Bwhahahahahaha.   
***Yet another intentional mistake, although the Fakers are what I like to call the Lakers. Bwahahahahahahahaha. 

fourteen: Hehe! I used to cheat a lot during tests too. The most memorable experience is during Biology test, when we were having it in the Bio lab and the teacher was busy so a technician was inviligating us. So everyone hid their textbooks in the drawer and copied from. I still failed though, hahahaha! Yeah you're right, I doubt Rukawa would take the trouble to cheat. Thanks for that idea, it was really helpful. =) 

diwata: Bt. Batok is in the west, kind of near Bt. Timah. Where do you live?

unchained: Nope, I'm not from BBSS. I'm from a famous girls school in AMK. Nyahahahahahahaha. I would like to state first that I don't represent the school in any way, shape or form. What I say or do is not representative of the student body as a whole, yadayadayada....What school're you from then? 

hagane: Okay, I'll share Mitchy with you if you agree to it. We can't go on fighting over such a guy. It's pointless, right? And so childish. But since I'm so nice, I'll agree to share with. Hrrmmph. Eh, tenshi means angel? That totally sounds like the Chinese version 'tian shi'. Just like tensai. Chinese is 'tian cai'. Um, yeah.

lambie: metallic gene? The girl who wrote that story about Ru, Ka, and Wa that makes me laugh till I could puke? She's your classmate? You're lucky! I mean if you do succeed (sp?) in persuading her to get the SD VCDs, it obviously means that YOU'LL HAVE IT! *goes green with envy* Ah well. How old are you by the way?

jashuang: Haven't had the time to go to Suntec yet. (Read: too damn lazy.) Do you have a shop name or something? It'll certainly make life easier. Hehe. Don't worry about not reviewing the previous chap. It's purrrfectly all right 'cause I'm so kind and forgiving. Bwahahahahahahahahahahahaha. 

sLL: Dunno about Maki and Fujima. But my theory is, because Mitsui abandoned basketball for two years, he didn't have the chance to dominate the competitions and stuff so Maki and Fujima and whoever else are considered top players. If my beloved Mitsui didn't abandon the game, you can trust that HE would be the number one player! Hell yeah! Maki and Fujima aren't half as good as he is, 'cause he's the best! Mwahahahahahahaha! Hey, I think Sendoh is hot. Ryonan will lose to Kainan right? Such a shame. I mean Sendoh is so good and all. But it's right that they lose to Shohoku 'cause Shohoku is the best team there is. Well, duh, Mitsui plays for them! Teeheehee. 

Hope everyone had a good X'mas! I got the survey idea from unchained's "Is It Me?" When Haruko filled out a love survey. So thanks dear! 

-Yelen (aka goddess almighty) missy_hissy14@winningteam.com 

PS. The Kings won the Fakers! YOSHA!!! 


	11. Tired

Chapter Eleven: Tired

It's 11 p.m. and my mother is not home. I've gone from being ticked off to angry to outraged to worried, and now I'm just plain tired. I'm lying on my bed, staring up at the ceiling, watching shadows shift and creep and integrate, and I'm dying to fall asleep but a nagging voice at the back of my head tells me not to. I don't even know why I'm staying up. I don't even know why I'm worrying, however unwilling. She's a grown woman. She can take care of herself. 

I have left a note for her on the dining table, telling her that the Vira woman called. I even left food in the refrigerator for her. The up side of all this is that I noticed she's thrown out most of her beer, so that the refrigerator actually has space for edible food. 

Now, things would be somewhat perfect, if she'd just come home. 

***** 

I must have fallen asleep, because it's morning now. Groggily, I glance at the clock. Wow, I didn't oversleep. Not only that, I'm actually awake fifteen minutes earlier than necessary. 

What the hell, I'll just sleep for another fifteen minutes. 

***** 

I think I should get an alarm clock that actually works. I slept through the ridiculously soft alarm, and now I'm late for school. 

Okay, so I swatted the damn thing off and threw it against the wall and went back to sleep. But still, what is the use of having an alarm clock if it can't wake me completely and fully? I was still half-asleep when the clock started to ring. 

I'm cycling to school now, after wolfing down two slices of bread and a glass of orange juice. Mother left me another note, which said, "Had things to do last night, sorry I couldn't come home earlier. Make your own breakfast. Hopefully I'll see you tonight. Love, Mom. P.S. That 'Vira woman' is your aunt." 

I wonder what were the 'things' that she had to do. Um, then again, I wonder where the heck she went. She left early again this morning, which explains the note, and by the look of things, I doubt the new situation would differ much from the old one. 

But whatever. I never said I cared. 

I steer my bicycle into the school building. I narrowly avoid being touched by a group of swooning females who look suspiciously like the ones I was trapped with yesterday in the hallway and peddle quickly away. I check the big clock that hangs from the wall of the school. Shit, thirty minutes late for my first class. No wonder the carpark is so deserted. 

I sling my backpack over my shoulder and stroll to the entrance of the school. A few teachers see me, but for some reason, they don't hassle me about being late. Instead, they kind of scurry away when they see me approaching. 

I'm just a bloody kid, for goodness sake. I didn't know I was _that_ intimidating. Now that I think about it, it is kind of fun. 

First lesson of the day: Music. 

Um, already missed it. 

Second lesson of the day: Mathematics. 

Awesome. Time to sle - 

Oh yeah. I can't. Have to stay on the team. Have to keep awake. I just keep forgetting that. 

***** 

The Maths teacher is giving out the test everyone took yesterday. He's off about how majority of the class has done badly, did they not listen to his lessons? Differentiation is so easy, how can more than half of the class fail? It's an outrage, it's pathetic, the class is hopeless, blah blah freaking blah. 

I stare out of the window. I had a nice dream last night. I dreamt that I was in the USA, playing basketball with a few friends whom I've never met before in real life, when a talent scout came up to me and gushed about how great my skills are, did I want to play in the NBA? I said 'yes' immediately, and then I was playing beside Michael Jordan. Our team was winning, and I had thirty points while MJ had forty. He told me 'good job' a few times, and when I did a splendid slam dunk, he was impressed. We hit it off immediately and life was great. I didn't have to bother with trivial crap like school, I didn't have to worry about absent mothers, and I didn't have to wonder about what could've been. I was living the life, and I was on top of the world. 

Too bad it's just a dream. 

"Rukawa!" 

The teacher is standing in front of me, holding my test paper in his hand. His other hand is placed on his waist. He looks pissed off. 

"Care to explain this?" he says, thrusting the paper at me. 

I glance at it. 95%. 

I look at the teacher, my face expressionless. I don't say anything. 

His eyebrow begins to twitch. "I'm waiting for an answer," he says through gritted teeth. 

I shrug. "I'm smart?" 

That appears to be the final straw, for he loses his composure and shouts, "You cheated, didn't you!" 

I sigh. This sucks. I fail tests and he gets on my back. I pass with flying colours and he gets on my back. What the hell does he want me to do? I thought he wanted me to pass. Well, I got a 95%. Isn't that passing enough? 

"I didn't cheat." 

"You deny it one more time and I'll send you to the principal's office!" 

Ooh, scary. The princi_pal_ is my pal. And threats are not scary when one hasn't done anything wrong in the first place. Besides, if I were to cheat, I would've done so a long, long time ago. 

Actually, I wouldn't have. It's just not worth the trouble. 

I shrug again. "I'm not lying." 

"So you're telling me that you obtained a 95% by sleeping in my class, not paying attention and by not handing up homework?" 

"I guess." 

He's making a scene in front of his students. For once, the class is silent; everybody has their eyes glued on me, occasionally flitting to the teacher but mostly, they're watching me. Rukawa Kaede, being accused of cheating. Definitely a show to watch. 

Now the teacher has to be boiling mad. I can't find any other ways to explain his scrunched up face, his protruded, flaring lips, and his bulging eyes. He looks like a crazy bull. 

"Go to the principal's office. Now!" 

Stupid Maths Teacher practically choked on the word 'now'; he is screeching and screaming like crazy teeny-boppers at rock concerts. Then again, you don't have to look that far. We have crazy teeny-boppers right here at Shohoku. 

Looking past the teacher, I forcefully push my chair back so that it topples over. Glaring at whoever dares to look my way, I snatch my test out of the teacher's hands and stride out of the room. 

***** 

I am so goddamn sick of this. So tired of it. I can't believe the prejudice that stupid teacher has against me. Is it so hard to accept that I am actually -- gasp -- smart? I'm no genius and I know it, but it doesn't exactly take one either to understand differentiation or whatever Mathematics crap that the teacher throws at the class. I thought if I keep myself awake enough to do their tests, they'd get off my back and quit threatening me with the basketball team, but no! Things just get worse! They never used to send me to the principal's office when I was sleeping through tests and almost flunking out of school. Ironically, now that I'm not, I'm on my way to my second visit to the bloody Head of School's office in the week. And it's only freaking Tuesday. 

I never asked for validity. I never asked for acceptance. I don't care about either. All I want to do is to get out of high school, out of Japan and to the USA and make myself a basketball star. That's all. 

Is that too much to ask for? 

***** 

Jump shot. Success. Three-pointer. Success. Slam dunk. Success. Shot under the basket. Success. Free-throw. Success. 

Now I'm sweating. Breathing heavily. Like how it is after an intensive training session. It's regular practice for the rest of the team but not for me. Today has really sucked and my usual way of dealing is to work like hell during practice to take my mind off things. It's worked fairly well so far. 

I receive a pass from one of the subs and prepare to attempt a lay-up. I bend my body and dribble the ball between my legs, getting ready to take my shot, when I hear Anzai-sensei call my name. 

"Rukawa-kun." 

Looking up, I see him gesturing towards me, his face kind but blank, his eyes shielded behind his glasses. Puzzled, I walk over to him, the basketball tucked below my arm. 

He leads me to the benches and takes a seat. 

"Sit down. I want to talk to you." 

I sit. Somehow, I have a feeling I know what this is about. I just don't think I should believe it yet. 

"Rukawa-kun," he says, his voice reassuring as ever but I know better than that. "How is school?" 

And he scores. I knew this was about school. The stupid principal wasn't making an empty threat after all, when he threatened to take me off the team. Again. The only difference is, this time he really did go to Anzai-sensei. What a shock. 

I shrug, for I've nothing to say to that. Anzai-sensei knows what he needs to know from the principal. He doesn't need to hear it from me. 

"From what I know," he goes on, "you've been failing most of your classes, haven't you?" 

I shrug again. I can't tell him anything he doesn't already know. 

He nods. He reaches into his jacket pocket and takes something out. He sets it down on the space between us and waits for me to speak. 

I look at it. It's my differentiation test paper. 

"Rukawa-kun. I am going to ask you just one question and I need you to be honest with me. Do you understand?" 

His eyes are locked squarely on mine, and there's no escaping the intensity of his question, or of this moment, for that matter. But I don't answer. I just stare back. 

"Did you cheat?" 

The moment of truth. I don't even hesitate. 

"_No. I did not."___

***** 

When practice ended I find Akagi's sister waiting by the gym exit. I'm about to brush past her when she suddenly calls out my name. 

"R-Rukawa-kun..." 

I sigh mentally. My whole body feels like it's going to come apart anytime now, and all I want as of this moment is a nice, long sleep on my comfortable bed. I'm in no mood to deal with annoying groupies, Akagi's sister or not. 

But it doesn't matter what I want, for she's walking after me. 

"Um...I'm sorry if I'm intruding, but...well, I was just wondering...what did Anzai-sensei want with you?" 

I continue walking as I mumble a half-hearted reply.   
  
"Some shit about some test. It's no big." 

I'm walking out of the school building now. I think I hear Akagi's sister say behind me, "Oh...well, nice work during practice today...see you tomorrow..." 

***** 

At home now. Walking up the stairs to the apartment. I'm rummaging around my backpack for my keys but I can't seem to find them anywhere. This is frustrating. I am _this_ close to my bed, which is already calling out for me, teasing me with temptation, and yet, I can't run to it just because I can't find my stupid keys. 

Life sucks, indeed. 

Okay, still can't find my keys. It's time to pour everything out. I turn my backpack upside down and watch as my stuff - candy wrappers, tissue papers, a few crumpled pieces of worksheets, two dirtied shirts, my differentiation test paper - comes tumbling out. When my backpack is emptied I peered inside. I'm greeted with nothing but black. 

I glance at the floor. Kuso. No keys in sight. I must've dropped them somewhere in school. 

I'm about to resign to my fate and accept the fact that I'm locked out of my own home when the door suddenly opens. I look up. 

And see my mother looking back at me, a small smile playing on her lips. 

"Lost your keys, Kaede?" she asks, shaking her head. "Come on in. It's chilly outside and you look half dead. I prepared you dinner. Are you hungry? You should be, after that intensive training you had." 

My intensive training? How does she know? My fatigue doesn't show _that_ much, does it? I know my stamina isn't as good as it should be - though I can safely say it's a lot better than Mitsui's - but that bad? I seriously need to focus on improving it. 

I kneel down and sweep my stuff back into my bag. I follow my mother into our home and close the door softly behind me. 

***** 

As I wolf down an excellent meal of teriyaki chicken and miso soup, my mother sits across from me and is telling me about her day at work. She's raving about some talented student in her class, a high school student who goes to that college part-time after school. As she speaks her eyes twinkle with excitement, her hands go erratic as they gesture and wave, and I can't begin to understand why in the world the paternal figure chose to leave this beautiful woman. 

"That's nice, Mom," I say between chews. I swallow. "Sounds like you're happy." 

"Don't talk with your mouth full," she chides, but she's smiling. "Life's pretty good for me. I've never felt this alive since...well, you know." 

As soon as those words left her mouth her eyes dull a little. It's so slight that I almost missed it, and when I didn't I wish I did. 

Her wounds are still raw, after all this while. 

I feel like I should say something to make things better, however little, but once again, Rukawa Kaede has turned into a mute. I don't know what to say. I don't even know what to think. All I can do is cast my eyes downwards and focus on my food. 

Luckily, she doesn't relapse. Changing the subject immediately, she goes on to say, "I got a call from your coach today." 

My head snaps up. _Anzai-sensei called my mother?!_ When how and why? Why wasn't I aware? When did he get the time? Before practice? After practice? _During_ practice? Wasn't he watching us the entire time? _How_ did he get the time?! 

"He told me about a misunderstanding that happened today." 

Misunderstanding, my bloody hind foot. More like blatant prejudice. Outright discrimination. Disgusting bigotry. 

"That wasn't a misunderstanding. The teachers hate me. It's simple as that." 

My mother chuckles. "Don't be dramatic. They don't hate you. They just dislike you." 

My hand freezes halfway to my mouth. I stare at my mother. A second of silence, and she bursts out laughing. 

I roll my eyes, but I'm smiling where she can't see. "Very funny, Mom," I mutter. "You should pair up with Jim Carrey one of these days." 

"Oh, stop being so sour," she protests with mock indignance. "It's all in jest. Poison in jest. No offence in the world!" 

"And stop quoting 'Hamlet'." 

"Why? What's wrong with quoting 'Hamlet'?"  
  
"It's annoying." 

She laughs again. "I'd continue fighting with you but it's going nowhere. Don't you want to know what Anzai-sensei said?" 

I shrug. "Nothing I don't already know." 

"Does that include 'Rukawa's an excellent basketball player, supremely talented and gifted'?" 

_He really said that? _"Of course," I answer nonchalantly. 

"What about this then: He spoke to the principal on your behalf and you get to stay on the team, as long as you keep up with your 95% and stop being rude to teachers." 

I choke on the meat that's about to slide down my throat, thus kicking off a coughing fit, but that's not important. All I can think of is, _I get to sleep during lessons again! Yosha!___

Hey, keeping myself awake in class isn't part of the deal. All I have to do is to fill in answers for my tests and restrain myself from saying "do'ahou" to my inadequate teachers. Pretty simple. The biggest feat I've been made to tackle thus far is to stay awake in class. My new challenges are _nothing_ to me. 

"Feel better now, Kaede?" 

I draw in a deep breath to stop my oesophagus from rattling. I nod. It's all I can do to keep myself from smiling. 

***** 

I'm in the kitchen, sitting on a stool and watching my mother wash my plates. I was going to do it myself but she insisted on doing it for me and refused to give in no matter how hard I tried to tell her that really, I can do it myself, so I just let her be. 

I've been wanting to ask her something for quite a while now. I can't get it out of my mind. At the same time, I don't really dare to ask, for I'm afraid of what the answer may be. On the other hand, the question is really driving me insane. I can't take the not-knowing. 

Sometimes, I can be such a girl. 

"Oi." 

"What is it?" she replies, her back to me. 

"Where were you last night?" 

She rinses off a plate and dries it. She turns to face me. 

"I was helping that student I told you about with her art project. If things work out well, she may have a small exhibition of her own." 

"Wow," I say. I'm truly impressed. 

"Yeah. Why do you ask though?" 

Suddenly, I'm fascinated with my fingernails. I stare at them and examine them carefully, as if trying to unlock a deep secret that only my fingernails hold. 

Dammit, I'm not making sense. Still staring at my fingernails, I mumble, "I was worried about you." 

Silence. I await the sting of rejection, but I shouldn't even bother. It's not just anyone I'm talking to. It's my mother. 

She doesn't say anything. She comes over to me and envelopes me in a warm embrace. 

At first, I feel my muscles tense. 

Gradually though, I begin to relax. And I return the gesture. 

* * *

A/N: FINALLY! CHAPTER ELEVEN! I'VE FINALLY DONE IT! ALL HAIL THE GREAT GENIUS! WOO-HOO! 

Sorry if this chapter was on the boring side. Seriously don't know what to write. I've ten days off from school so I think I'll use this break to get the plot back. I've abandoned this poor fic for so long now. I almost forgot the plot. But yeah, I'll try to round it up soon. 

I wouldn't be surprised if this fic has been forgotten. My last update was in bloody DECEMBER. Gad, I'm so ashamed. Yeah, anyway, I shan't ramble on any further. Replies to reviews: 

fourteen: He sent out the survey with Sakuragi's answers because he's too lazy to delete them. I do that all the time. Bwahahahaha. 

hagane: Haha, you're funny. Isn't Mitchy the best? I think he is. Yep, tensai in Chinese is 'tian cai'. The two languages share the same um, kanji. I mean, yeah. It's just that it's pronounced 'tian cai' in Chinese. Um, yeah. Thanks for the review. And thanks for the truce too. Fighting is baaaaaad. 

chescaOtaku:  LOL thanks. You're too kind. =) 

diwata: Heh sorry. I'm from Singapore. Where are you from? Thanks for reading. I really appreciate it. 

qianhui: I LOVE YOUR FIC! Everyone, check out qianhui's fic "My Descent Into Madness" at . It's amazing. Please update it soon okay? 

fizah: Ay you know Xuwen? I don't know the other two people you mentioned in your nice review of my other Mitchy thingy. I presume they're from St Nicks too? 

White Meteor: Relax. Rukawa's a 16-year-old male. Most 16-year-old males are hormonal. Be glad I didn't make him gay. If he were gay you can't have him, right? Yes. Um, Mitsui wasn't going to quit. Quitting didn't even cross his mind until he had that unfortunate injury. Didn't deserve to win MVP, huh? Who shot the winning shot with 9 seconds left? Mitsui! Duh! Who is the amazing three-point expert? Mitsui! If that's not MVP material I don't know what is! He didn't ruin Team Shohoku, he helped his team win against Shoyo and Ryonan for crying out loud! Um, yeah, before this becomes a novel: Jin's coach said that he doesn't have talent during the Shohoku vs. Kainan match. When Jin shot a successful three-pointer and Kogure was like, well, I forgot what he said. Kogure mentioned something about talent and Jin. And Jin's coach overheard and was like, "Jin? Talented? Yeah right!" =) 

lambie: Yep, from St Nicks, though you probably know that by now. Sigh. I've been such a slacker. Glad you liked Ch 10. =) 

iNsAnEbEl: Congrats! You're taking the O Levels this year! *throws confetti* I'm done with mine! Hehe, sorry, couldn't resist rubbing it in. I got out of that crap relatively unscathed though so don't worry, you'll do fine. You gotta study for it though, seriously. I was still slacking before the O Levels so I didn't do as well as I hoped to. Ah well. Anyway, thanks for the review. 

jashuang: LOL. Um, yeah, back to school indeed. Although it's the holidays again now. Hehe. Have fun during these ten days. 

-Yelen (red_knee_guard@lycos.com)   
  



	12. World On Your Shoulders

Chapter Twelve: World On Your Shoulders

I don't really know what I'm doing here. Standing outside Anzai-sensei's office, that is, when I'm supposed to be rushing for class. (Yeah, right, like I ever do that.) 

Okay. I do know what I'm doing here. I just don't really feel like admitting it. 

This is strange. I've never felt compelled to do anything like this before, let alone acted on an inclination such as this. I'm not entirely comfortable, standing outside his office while every single person that passes by shoots me the Curious Look that basically says, "What in the world is Rukawa Kaede doing? Did he hit his head or something?" 

Maybe I should just leave. I'm guessing that I'd land myself in an awkward situation, and nobody is stupid enough to not avoid it when they have the chance to. 

Too late. The door opens just as I'm about to lift my right foot, and out steps Anzai-sensei. 

There goes my chance. 

He sees me standing in front of him and does a slight double-take. But then, he smiles. 

"Ohaiyo, Rukawa-kun," he says. 

"Ohaiyo," I reply. And clam my mouth shut. 

"What brings you here this morning?" 

Okay, Kaede sweetheart, that's the cue for you to say the things you've came to say and get the hell out of here. So do it already, for god's sake! 

Anzai-sensei's looking at me expectantly. Perhaps wishing that he could shove his hand down my throat and pull out the words so that he wouldn't be late for class. Or maybe thinking about what a doofus I am and preparing to laugh at me later, when -- if -- I tell him what I came here to tell him. 

"Is everything all right, Rukawa-kun?" 

I realise that I'm still standing there, all hundred and eighty-seven centimetres of me, looking like the biggest fool ever. 

I clear my throat and refrain from making eye contact. I shove my hands into my pockets. 

"Arigatou..." I say softly, "...Anzai-sensei." 

He smiles again, and I can swear right here and now that he's Buddha personified. Everything about him simply radiates kindness; every gesture, every word, every smile. 

The team is so lucky to have him as our coach. 

He pats my shoulder. "You are welcome. Now go for your classes. And do your best." 

How incredibly stupid of me to even entertain the notion that he would laugh at me. Anzai-sensei would never do that. He could never be mean to anyone, not anymore. It's simply not in his nature. 

I nod. I want to say more -- how grateful I am towards him for what he's done for me, how much I appreciate his comments about my basketball skills, what a cool person he is -- but no words would come. 

But perhaps, just perhaps, no more is needed. 

***** 

What was the deal again? Keep up with my 95% and refrain from being rude to teachers, right? 

Yosh. I get to sleep. 

I fold my arms across the table and place my forehead on my arms. It feels so good to be sleeping in class again. I feel like I've finally found a long-lost friend or something. Everything is in order now. 

"Rukawa Kaede! What do you think you're doing?"   


I groan inwardly. You have _got_ to be kidding me. I can't sleep in class too? What the hell do they want from me? My blood? My sanity? My very _life_? 

Agonisingly, I lift my head from the warm comfort of my makeshift pillow (my arms) and look sleepily at the teacher. The English teacher. Who is looking like he is about to explode. 

"Don't let me catch you sleeping again! Now write your essay!" 

Kuso. I have an essay to write? Why didn't anyone tell me? 

I read the questions on the board: 

1. Abortion -- right or wrong?   
2. Write a story entitled 'Flee'.   
3. Your most unwanted memory.   
4. What is the best thing about Shohoku High?   
5. You have won a special prize in a competition that you have worked hard in. Describe your thoughts and feelings as you collect your award from the guest-of-honour. Remember to state in your essay the nature of the competition. 

Kami-sama, thank you for number five. 

Wait. I should be thanking the teachers as they were the ones who set the questions. 

But thanking those morons? No bleeding way. 

I pick up my pen and start to write. 

** 

Rukawa Kaede's essay, v1.

Question number: 5. 

I have won a prize for being the best rookie player at the Inter-High games. I cannot believe it. I can't wait to show this off to stupid Sendoh and tell him that I'm better than him. As I make my way to the stage I feel absolutely delighted. I am so happy that I can actually relate to that stupid Hampster Dance song, because I really feel like dancing like a hamster right now. 

Dancing like a hamster? _Dancing like a hamster?! Nande kuso? _Did I really write that? What's wrong with you, Hand? 

I read the essay over. And I decide it's utter crap. Surely I can do better than that! 

Rukawa Kaede's essay, v2.

Question number: 5. 

When they announced the recipient of the 'Best Rookie of the Year' award I could hardly believe my ears. _I_ won it! They picked _me_ as Best Rookie over so many other competitors from all corners of Japan! 

"Will Rukawa Kaede please approach the stage to collect your prize?" 

My teammates were congratulating me but I could hardly hear them. All I could think of was, I WON! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! 

Too many exclamation marks. And if something like this really happened to me, I would definitely have no trouble believing it. 

This essay is nauseating. 

Rukawa Kaede's essay, v3.

As I walked up the steps to the stage my heart was crying with joy. This was the best moment of my life. I knew those months working alongside with my crazy teammates were worth it. 

Because it is me. Most Valuable Player. 

As I walked across the stage I 

This is a _really_ stupid topic. 

I crumple my third essay attempt in frustration, causing a loud crackling to rip through the silence of the classroom. I glance around me. Everyone is scribbling away diligently, their heads bent low, as if mocking me for being uninspired. 

I check the time. Bloody hell, I've exactly fifty-six minutes left. I better do something quick, something good. I need to maintain a good average, remember? 

I scan through the questions again. My eyes rest on number two. "Write a story entitled 'Flee'." 

And just like that, inspiration struck like a bolt of lightning. I don't even hesitate. I pick up my pen and begin scribbling. 

**

Flee

(by Rukawa Kaede)

It was a painful slap that stung his skin like the pricks of five thousand million pins, but he did not wince. He refused to succumb and he would die before admitting that he hurt, for it would mean revealing his weakness. He'd sworn to himself that he would never do that, no matter what. This situation definitely qualified as 'no matter what'. 

"You take back what you said right now!" 

His father was furious, his face a dark shade of crimson red. He noted that his father's fist was trembling. 

But he didn't care. 

"Never." 

It was just one word. One common word, uttered by so many mouths around the world, in so many different contexts. 

And all it took was that one work, lined with spite and defiance. for the father to bring his fist down to his son's jaw in a violent strike. 

He tasted something coppery in his mouth, which he identified as blood. There was so much blood. He could feel it spreading over his chin, dripping onto his shirt, trickling from his wound. 

He didn't know what he was doing, exactly. But instead of retaliating, he turned and fled the house without a second backward glance. 

** 

He hated himself for running away. He hated himself for breaking his own pact. But as tears stream down his face in tiny rivers, he wished it was blood he was crying. 

He had yelled at his father, telling him that he wasn't fit to be a father. He wasn't sure now why he said that. He wasn't really sure of anything anymore. Details of that day were growing fuzzier and fuzzier; images melted into each other, until he could no longer tell them apart. And he was tired, so very tired, that all he wanted was a good night's sleep, secure in his own bed. 

But he knew he could never go back again. He could never return to his old home; he was too proud for that, but more importantly, going back meant accepting his parents' divorce. And he wasn't about to do that. 

He wrapped his arms tighter around himself. He was somewhere in Kanagawa, roaming the streets after twelve midnight, a peculiar-looking boy without a home, destination unknown. He was alone. All alone. 

And somewhere else in Japan, snow began to fall.   
***** 

I don't know what brought about all that. Honestly. Of course, very obviously, the essay's symbolic of my own life, but did I have to tell my sob story to my useless teacher? 

Oh well, it's too late now, for I've already handed in the essay. I can only hope that he doesn't link it back to me. 

Knowing how dumb he is though, I doubt I have to worry about that. 

Walking to the toilet now. I excused myself from Physics as I couldn't bear sitting through the teacher's boring lesson on electromagnetic waves, even though I'm not very familiar with the topic. But I seriously need a breather, or I'll definitely implode; keeping myself awake for two periods to write an essay in _English_ is no easy feat. I had to get out of the classroom. It's not like I can sleep in there anyway. 

I don't really need to pee, but I still push open the door to the toilet. Ignoring the other people in the loo, I walk over to the wash basins and stare at myself in the mirror. 

Okay. I suppose I don't look half bad. At least, I'm not as ugly as I thought I was. 

But I have my "father"'s eyes. Of all things to inherit, I inherited his eyes. I can't ever avoid looking at them. 

Which translates into this: I can't ever forget. No matter how much I want to. 

***** 

I'm walking extra-slowly back to the classroom, purposely dragging my feet along with every minuscule step. Technically, nobody can catch me and accuse me of cutting class. For goodness sake, I'm going back. It's just that I'm doing it slowly. 

"Rukawa? That you?" 

The voice came from behind me. I look back, and see Mitsui walking in my direction.   
  
"Hey," he says as he falls into step beside me. "What are you doing out here? Don't you have class?" "Toilet break," I answer vaguely. 

"Uh-huh. Did you really need to pee?" 

Well. I should've known he would see through that. I almost forgot that I'm talking to the King of All Slackers. "No. Just wanted fresh air." 

Mitsui laughs. "I just knew it, you sly fox you. No wonder Sakuragi nicknamed you 'kitsune'." 

"Do'ahou." 

Mitsui ignores my comment. We're almost reaching my classroom now.   
  
"Oh, by the way, the team's having lunch together in the cafeteria. Come join us if you want to, okay?"   


"Right," I say. 

"You're skeptical about this too?" He shakes his head. "Man, Rukawa, why do you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders?" 

I stop walking. "I don't," I reply, and open the door to my classroom and enter it without another word to Mitsui. 

His footsteps echo down the empty corridor, and I listen to it until I can hear no more. 

***** 

The cafeteria is, as usual, jam-packed with people when I step into its vicinity. Immediately, I begin to regret my decision. The noise level in here can definitely rival that of a heavy-metal concert's. Trust me, I would know, considering I saw Meatloaf live in concert once. 

Still, I scan the crowd for familiar faces, and at the same time pretending not to hear the absurdly excited cries of 'Weeee! Rukawa-kuuuuun!' all around me. Finally, I spot a patch of red amongst the sea of mostly black and brown. Not that it's much of a relief. 

Kuso. The do'ahou is here too. Okay, awesome. Time to split. 

Seconds after I turned to go, somebody yells my name. 

"Rukawa! Over here!" 

Guess I wasn't quick enough. 

The first thing that greets me when I approach is not a friendly smile. Not even close. Sakuragi "do'ahou" Hanamichi stalks over to me and shoots me his evil glare. 

"What are you doing here?" he demands. 

I exhale. What an inherently stupid question. I don't even bother with a reply. Ignoring him, I saunter over to an empty spot and sit down, just in time to see Akagi execute a well-deserved punch on the do'ahou's head. 

"Urusei, baka-saru!" Akagi bellows. 

'Baka-saru'? That's certainly something new. Beside me, Mitsui and Miyagi are sniggering away while Kogure has a pained expression on his face. 

"Hi Rukawa," he says to me, the wince still present. "Nice of you to join us." 

I nod. 

"Just ignore Sakuragi," Akagi mutters while shooting daggers in the do'ahou's direction, challenging him to create another outburst. 

"Teme, Gori!" the do'ahou screeches, his eyes blazing. "Stop siding with the kitsune!" 

Yare yare. There they go again. I tune them out and begin to check out the food on the table. 

What? No food? Just great. I have to join the horribly long queues, thus getting close to the half-lives around me, thus dirtying my skin, just to get something to eat. This is so not worth it. 

Okay, so I left my lunch at home and it's my own fault. So what. I never claimed to be perfect. And why didn't they buy anything anyway? Bunch of morons. 

"I thought you weren't coming." Mitsui nudges me in the rib. "What happened?"   


I shrug. "Nothing better to do." 

Mitsui's mouth falls open. "Gee, thanks a lot! Oi, Miyagi, did you hear what this impudent punk said?" 

"Loud and clear," Miyagi answers slowly, fixing his eyes on me. "How very flattering!" 

I roll my eyes and let out a heavy sigh. What_ever_. I just want to eat. 

"Food?" I ask. 

Miyagi arches an eyebrow. "What about it?" 

Oh forget it. These idiots are impossible. I stand up, push my chair back and embark on a journey to hunt for something good to eat. 

I'm only ten paces away from the table when Mitsui stops me. 

"Rukawa, hold on for a sec!" 

I stop and turn around. He's half-standing, counting money in his hand. 

"Get me a Coke and Miyagi a Sprite, will ya?" 

He flashes me a smile, one that I bet he hopes and probably believes is disarming, and stretches his hand out to me. 

"Oh, jesus," I mutter. I walk back and take the change from him. 

"Thanks!" Mitsui and Miyagi chorus cheerfully. 

I roll my eyes. Whatever. 

***** 

When I get back to the table, balancing my tray on one hand and holding my seniors' drinks in the other, the team is engaged in a discussion. A serious discussion, apparently, judging from the expressions on all of their faces. 

Akagi looks up when I set my tray down. Mitsui and Miyagi immediately grab their drinks out of my hand and pull open the tab, then guzzle the contents down as if they haven't drank in ages. 

"Good, you're back," Akagi says as I take my seat. "This is really important. We're discussing our game strategy for the match against Kainan on Saturday, and we need your input. What do you think?" 

I nearly choke on the strand of ramen in my mouth, not just because we're discussing game strategy over lunch like a bunch of Science geeks who can't wait to get started on their latest Science experiment, but also because, in the Captain's very own words, they 'need my input'. 

This is something new too. 

"I don't know why we're wasting time here," the do'ahou suddenly pipes up. "It's obvious that the stupid kitsune isn't going to say anything. He's mute! Don't you all know that?" 

I glare at the do'ahou. "Shut up," I growl. To the rest of the team, I say, "Run and Gun." 

"You think so?" 

I nod and shove another wad of noodles into my mouth. 

The rest of the conversation goes something like this: 

Akagi: Yeah, we were discussing that method too. You all think we should make swift and fast attacks? 

Mitsui: Good idea. We'd be up against Kainan, and that's no joke. We should try to get as many points as quick as possible. 

Miyagi: Yes, but how do we know they wouldn't be all over our asses when we attack? Maybe it's better to take it slow, get our pace down and get steady points. 

Kogure: Yeah, Miyagi has a point. 

Mitsui: No, I still think fast and quick is better. I mean, think about it. Kainan would be scoring baskets left and right. But they aren't perfect, so Sakuragi would be grabbing the offensive rebounds. Once he does it, we have to make a break for it, or the ball may be turned over. You know? 

The do'ahou (sniggering): Ooh Mitchy! Now you know the true value of the tensai!   


Akagi (punching the do'ahou on the head): Be serious! This is no time to joke! 

Mitsui (ignoring the do'ahou): Okay. So, opinions? 

Akagi: Here's my plan, actually. I would get the ball after tip-off and one of us would run straight for the goal and wait for my pass. When he gets it, he scores immediately. This would throw the opponent off-guard and we'd have the upperhand. 

Mitsui: Wonderful idea. 

Miyagi: Yeah, I think we can work with that. I mean, if Akagi's pass gets intercepted, I can always steal it back. 

Kogure: I have no objections. 

Akagi (a tad glaringly, to Miyagi): What do you mean, if my pass gets intercepted? 

Miyagi: Hehe. It was just a hypothetical 'what if'... 

The do'ahou: And this tensai would be that player, right? (patting Akagi on the shoulder) I totally agree with your plan, Gori. Very good idea. 

Akagi (trying to maintain his cool): No, you wouldn't be that player. I was thinking Rukawa. 

The do'ahou: _Nandatou?_ You're going to entrust that lazy fox with such an important task and not this genius? 

Mitsui: He has a higher chance of scoring than you, so, yeah, I agree with Akagi. 

Kogure (looking worried): Maa, Sakuragi, calm down... 

(The bell goes.) 

Akagi: Okay, time is up. We'll discuss this more at practice. Don't be late. And be prepared to stay late today, we've got lots to do if we're serious about beating Kainan. 

Mitsui (stretching): Yes, father. We hear ya. 

Miyagi: It's no problem, no problem at all. 

The do'ahou (bragging as usual): Don't worry Gori, this tensai is in his best condition as always!   


Akagi (ignoring the do'ahou): Rukawa, you're okay with everything, right? 

Me: Yeah. 

Kogure: Yosh, it's all set then, we'll see you all later. 

***** 

Mitsui is apparently going in the same direction as me, which explains why he's walking with me again. I would complain, but then, I would be lying to myself. 

"You know," Mitsui is saying. "It's good that you showed up. It was supposed to be a meeting but I forgot that part. So if you didn't show, Akagi would be yelling at me right now." 

"Hn," I reply. 

"Yeah." He suddenly stops talking, as if contemplating something. For a moment, I thought something is up, that he's going to tell me things that I don't want to hear and put me in the spot. I mean, I know I'm an accommodating person at times, but nobody wants to be burdened with other people's problems. 

He leans in close to me. "By the way, can you help me find out if that girl who sits in the front row by the window is currently in a relationship? You know, the one in your class? I think she's really cute." 

Is he kidding me? He's asking _me_ for such a stupid favour? Does he know that he's still talking to Rukawa Kaede? Just because I very kindly bought him a lousy drink just now doesn't mean I'd do him favours all the time. Especially not something as dumb as the one he's asking me now. 

"No." 

"Aww, come on! Help me out here!" 

I shake my head. "No way. You can take a hike." 

Mitsui glowers at me. "Fine then. I'd just ask somebody else. It's not like I don't have any alternatives. Suit yourself." 

"Yeah, whatever," I mutter. "Ja." 

"Ja." 

* * *

A/N: Funnily, I completed this faster than I thought I would. I was up till 3 a.m. a couple of days back just writing the first half of this chapter. Inspiration rocks. 

I'm reaching the end of the fic already. Just a few more chapters, and this is done. Trying to keep it under 20 chaps. I think I can do it. 

Oh, and I apologise if the funny font is hard to read. I figured Rukawa should have a messy handwriting so I chose that font. Bwahahaha. 

Meatloaf is an 80s rock band. I think 'nande kuso' means 'what the hell' but of course, I may be wrong. Bwaha... er, yes. 

hagane: Yeah, the ten days off is due to the SARs outbreak. I'm back to school on Wednesday though. Can't be more glad. Thanks for still reading. I appreciate it. :) 

Fizah: Haha, the girl? You'll read about her sometime later. And boy, was I surprised when I saw your email in my inbox yesterday... you got power ah! 

lambie: LOL. You're funny. Lucky you, getting another week off school. Have fun stoning at home! Bwahahahaha. (You _are_ in secondary school right?) 

iNsAnEbEL: Haha. At least you bother screaming out answers during Maths. My Maths classes in SN went something like this:   
Teacher: And the answer is?   
The class: (Silence)   
Teacher: Class? Are we alive?   
The class: (silence)   
Pretty sad. Anyway, thanks for the review. Have fun during your extra week off! 

Okay, the formatting is all screwed. I bloody hate Netscape Composer. Sorry about that. Ru's messy handwriting did not show. God, I'm pissed. 

-Yelen   
  



	13. Hello, My Relatives

Chapter Thirteen: Hello, My Relatives

Practice was hell today. I don't usually complain about the gruelling workouts Captain Akagi gives us, but today, it was as if he was on speed or some other drug. He was crazy. He actually yelled at Mitsui for missing an open lay-up, and Captain Akagi usually knows not to ruffle Mitsui's delicate feathers. 

The most surprising thing was, Mitsui actually took it in stride and shrugged it off, as if he understood that Captain Akagi was just under immense pressure. A few weeks ago he would've started a war of words with Akagi without a doubt. 

My body is aching from all the running and jumping and sprinting, but I feel surprisingly good. I could still play after a few hours of Akagi's intense workout; I missed only three shots out of ten in the 'I'm going to die' mode, when I usually miss half of them. 

When I reach home at 9.30 p.m., my mother is watching a Kurosawa Akira film. It's about samurai and it's in black and white. "Seven Samurai". It's pretty good. I saw it when I was fourteen and I entertained the notion of going into film-making for a few minutes, until I remembered I want to play basketball. Forever. 

My mother looks up from the television screen after I drop my bag on the sofa. She gestures for me to sit down while riveting her gaze back to the film. 

I sit. She's at the part where the village girl and the young samurai have a little rendezvous in the forest. I thought it was pretty sweet then. Now? I simply scoff at it. 

"Kaede," my mom says, her eyes still glued to the television screen. "We're going to your grandma's this Friday. It's her birthday. Okay?" 

"What?" 

"Your grandma's. Friday. Celebrate birthday." 

I can't believe my ears. More importantly, I can't believe _her_. How can she just drop a bomb onto my lap like this and still have the heart to watch _television_? I understand it's Kurosawa Akira and all, but give me a break! This is serious! 

"Just out of the blue like that?" 

She finally realises my sligh distress. Pressing 'pause' on the cheap VCD player we bought at a jumble sale a few months ago (one of the few times the old mom was actually sober), she turns to look at me, giving me her full attention. 

"It's your grandmother's birthday. We should be there to celebrate it with her." 

"But we didn't go last year," I protest. I really don't want to do it. I can already imagine how awkward things will be between us and my extended family. It's too much of a hassle and I don't want to deal with it. 

"Exactly," she explains patiently. "Which is why we should go this year. Especially since we're perfectly capable of doing so." 

"But," I protest again. "It's going to be so weird." 

She sighs. "Weird or not, they're family. And she's my mother. We have to be there." 

I ball my fist in frustration. She's not going to change her mind, no matter how many counter-arguments I come up with. I gues I have no choice then. 

"I have a match on Saturday though. We have to come back early so that we can rest." 

My mother smiles. She scurries over to where I'm seated and plants a kiss on my forehead, as though I were a six-year-old child who has finally stopped crying for the ice-cream he's not getting. 

"I knew you'd understand," she says, beaming. "You're playing against Kainan, right? Number one team in Kanagawa?" 

I raise my eyebrows. "How do you know?" 

"Anzai-sensei told me the other day." 

Well, duh, Kaede. "Oh." 

"I have classes that day but I can take the day off if you want me there. Do you?" 

I lift one shoulder. "It's okay. Just show up for the Inter-High." 

She smiles again. My mother has a really nice smile. It's warm and bright, just like sunshine. "Deal. We'll leave early if it gets really weird, okay?" 

"Okay." 

***** 

Am I happy about dragging myself to my grandma's and meeting relatives whom I haven't seen in ages and pretending to care when I couldn't begin to give a shit either way about their existence as it's been so obvious that the feeling is mutual? Not to mention wasting time on a pointless family gathering where everyone smiles like crocodiles and conceal the knife in their words behind their hypocritical smiles when I could be using that time practicing my game and getting myself into shape for the battle against Kainan. 

No, I'm not happy about it at all. But it seems to mean so much to my mother. I mean, it _is_ her mother. I would want to go too if it were my mother. 

The rest of the family? I'd just ignore them and get on with life. 

***** 

"You have to _leave_?" 

That's Akagi exclaiming, but almost everyone in the team is staring at me with slightly bigger eyes than usual. Except, of course, the do'ahou, who, for some reason, has a triumphant smirk on his face. 

"Yes." 

"Rukawa, the game is _tomorrow_!" Akagi says with clear exasperation in his voice. "You can't just take off like that in the middle of practice!" 

"It's my grandmother's birthday. My mother wants me at the celebration." 

Akagi seems to be stunned into silence. He is gaping at me like a goldfish. 

I don't blame him, really. Tomorrow is our big game, and we have to be in the best condition, or we can definitely forget about winning. And here I am, super rookie of the team, announcing that I have to leave in the middle of practice. 

It's not like I'm jumping with joy that I have to do this. In fact, I think it downright stinks. Who wants to spend a perfectly fine evening in a stuffy house full of weird strangers whom you could _really_ care less about and a bunch of annoying, screaming kids who'd make you want to rip out your organs and intestines one by one the very _minute_ they open their disgusting mouths? Nobody. As in, _nobody_. Unless you're a masochist. 

Unfortunately, my mother is one such masochist. 

It really sucks to be me sometimes. 

Captain Akagi seems to have finally snapped out of his state of shock. "You can't get out of it?"   


Not even if I got down on my knees and begged. I shake my head. 

Captain Akagi sighs in resignation. He's looking positively unhappy about this. 

"Fine. Go. Just make sure you're fit for tomorrow and don't be late for the game. And don't forget the game strategy we agreed on either. You still remember it?" 

I nod. Of course I remember. How can I possibly forget? He's been drilling it into everyone's minds since we agreed on it. 

"Good," he continues. "Well, have fun at your grandmother's, I guess. Don't ever do this again. I'm really not comfortable with it." 

"Won't happen again," I promise. 

***** 

My mother is waiting for me in a cab when I walk out of the school building and to the main road, where she told me to meet her. She opens the door for me from the inside. 

I have to bend down really low in order to get into the car. And then, we're off. 

"Hey," I say. 

"Hi Kaede," she answers. "Had any trouble coming out?" 

I lean my head against the window and stare out at the outside world. "Don't get me started," I mutter. 

At the other end of the taxi, my mother chuckles. "Okay, we won't talk about it." she reaches over and pats my hand. "Thanks for doing this. It really means a lot." 

My heart softens. I was all ready to give her the cold shoulder to make my displeasure felt, but after those words, no human being can possibly stay angry. 

"It's nothing." 

***** 

I must have fallen asleep in the taxi, because the next thing I know, we're pulling into a long and seemingly endless driveway, flanked by blooming flowers and other plants on both sides. Up ahead is a mansion. 

No, correction. It's a _huge_ mansion. It's unlike anything I've ever seen in my life. It almost resembles something out of a classic fairytale with its sprawling height of a whopping four storeys; its full-length glass windows that reach the floor, as if protecting something delicate; and its elaborate, almost over-the-top exterior design. 

The first thing I noticed when we were pulling into the driveway was the fountain that stands in the middle of a well-kept, relatively pretty garden. It's too tacky for my taste, but I suppose any normal person would appreciate or even fawn over the immaculately-cut grass, the wild array of flowers grown and just the overall mad dash of colours produced. There are so many different species of flowers here that my grandmother can open a bloody _nursery_ if she so desires. They come in violet, blood red, white, yellow and pink, reminding me of, well, an uncreative painter who produces watercolour works merely for commercial purposes, without any implicit intentions whatsoever. 

Such 'artists' are the ones I scoff at and look down upon. But let's not get into that right now. 

I never knew that my grandmother was rich. But then, there are lots of things about my extended family that I'm clueless about. And frankly speaking? I don't really care. 

I step out of the taxi and take in the sight before me. It's overwhelming, admittedly; having been to Europe doesn't quite mean that I'm used to posh places. In fact, it goes without saying that it's quite the opposite. 

My mother pays he driver his due, and soon, the two of us are left alone on a long and endless tretch of concrete, whose end is unknown to both of us. 

My mother takes in a deep breath and throws a lop-sided grin my way. It's supposed to be reassuring, but the slight trembling of her lips gives the game away. 

She's nervous. Probabyl regretting her decision. 

All I can say is, I told you so. 

"Well," she says. "We're here!"   


She's trying to sound cheerful, probably more for her sake than mine, but I don't buy it. Not at all. 

I don't answer her. I watch my mother clasp and unclasp her hands, wipe non-existant sweat on her palms off on her trousers, all the while keeping absolutely silent. 

I'm waiting for her to make the first move. The first move towards the front door of her mother's residence, where we would be welcomned into a world of unknown relations and strained politeness. 

Gee. I can hardly wait. 

Finally, after what feels like a lifetime watching my mother go into panic mode, she begins to walk in the direction of the front door. At first, her pace is her usual steady one, but as she gets nearer and nearer to her destination, her footsteps start to slinker and cower away. 

God, this is insane. It's just a bunch of old people waiting for us. What's there to be afraid of? 

Impatiently, I stride towards the front door, not caring if my mother is happy with it. She brought us here; now she's going to have to face the music. 

We're at the front door now. The door appears to be made of an expensive wood whose name I cannot place. That, or it's an imitation, but I don't think that's too likely. 

I reach up to press the doorbell, and just when my finger is about to come in contact with the buzzer, my mother suddenly grabs my arm. 

"Wait!" she hisses. She's looking very worried all of a sudden. "We can't go in!" 

"What?" Is she crazy? She dragged me out of a very important basketball practice session just to come all the way to her mother's mansion that we can't go into? What a waste of precious practice time! 

"I forgot a birthday present!" 

Oh. So that's it. And I thought it was something major. 

"So?" I answer. Turning away from her, I press the doorbell for real this time, causing my poor mother to let out a soft cry. She digs her fingernails painfully into my exposed skin as we wait for a response. 

When the door finally opens, it definitely isn't a face I expected to see that greets us. In fact, you can't get any further from the exact opposite than this. Instead of an old, wrinkly face, I'm met with the youthful face of a girl who's probably in her late teens. 

I'm dumbfolded. Talk about surprise number two! I stare at the girl in surprise, not saying a word and she looks expectantly back, waiting for me to do... whatever it is that she's expecting me to do. 

Luckily, my mother jumps in and saves the day. 

"Hi. We're here for the celebration? You must be the maid." 

Okay. So accuse me of being slow on the uptake. But how was I supposed to know that she's the servant? It's not like I'm _that_ well-acquainted with rich people. In fact, I'm not. And I don't wish to ever be, but apparently, I haven't got much of a choice. 

"Oh, yes, come on in," the girl says and opens the door a little wider, wide enough for us to pass through. 

Now, if I was overwhelmed with the house's exterior, all I can say is, Kaede, you ain't seen nothing yet. The interior is glamourous, and that's not covering even half of it. The house can be converted into a goddamn _museum_ by its sheer massive size and the assortment of antiques lying around everywhere. And right in the centre of the living room hangs a chandlier made of crystals that change colour with the different slants of sunlight falling onto them. 

Oh, and who can forget the disgusting bear rug that greets your feet the moment you step into the place? 

"Big house," my mother mutters beside me. "Definitely bigger than the last one." 

"Hn," I reply. The living room is surprisingly empty. I thought it would be filled with people, but apparently, the people are in a special room somewhere at the back of the house, because the girl is leading us somewhere else. She pushes open a set of heavy-duty doors and smiles at us. 

"There you go! Have fun!" 

My mother and I look at each other. Then, she shrugs and takes a deep breath. 

"Well, here goes nothing," she says, and steps into the room. 

I don't really know what I expected. I mean, I certainly didn't expect pulsing rock music blasting from numerous stereos lined up side-by-side against the wall and a moshpit of bodies gyrating to the rhythm, but I didn't quite expect something so... _tame_ either. 

There are people in the room, all right. People of all ages, from infants to teenagers to adults. They are all sitting around, sipping from porcelain cups with intricate designs, talking away. 

At first, our presence seems to appear unnoticed. Then, without any prior warning whatsoever, somebody screams my mother's name. 

"Mika! Oh my! Is that really you?" 

I watch as my mother's face breaks into a tentative but hopeful smile. 

"Vira!" 

So _that's_ the woman on the phone the other day. Unsurprisingly, she doesn't look familiar at all. 

The Vira woman scurries over and makes a big production of embracing my mother and exclaiming how good she looks, yadayadayada, and I'm beginning to think I can just sneak out and nobody would notice until she turns to me. 

"And Kaede!" she gushes annoyingly, clasping my hands in hers. "All grown up! And so handsome, too!" 

I bite back the word that almost escapes my mouth -- do'ahou -- and try my best not to scowl. This is going to be one long, painful evening. 

By now everyone in the room has noticed us, all thanks to Vira and her loud voice. Interestingly enough, my mother doesn't seem to feel as out of place as I do; she's actually chatting with that Vira woman, looking as though she's finally regained the home that she's lost. 

Good for her, I guess. 

I receive more "hey, Kaede!"s and "good to see you!"s from uncles I never think about, more polite smiles from cousins I don't remember, and I'm starting to think I've entered the twilight zone, when I see my grandmother. 

She's eighty-nine this year, but she certainly doesn't look her age. And all of a sudden, I'm seeing a brief image in my mind's eye, transient and intangible as magic, of a kind, benevolent face, smiling at me as if I were the brightest light in the world. 

Somebody pushes me forward, and I'm too taken off-guard to resist. I find myself standing right in front of my grandmother, with her daughter by my side. 

She looks at me. And then, she smiles. 

"Ah, Kaede-kun," she says. "Nice to see you." 

I don't know how to react. So I just blurt out the first thing that pops into my head. 

"Happy birthday." 

I need not get any further than that, thankfully, for centre stage soon belongs to my mother. I watch from the sidelines once again as my mother embraces her mother, tears streaming freely down her face, and she's become the daughter once more. 

And maybe that's what she truly needs, after all these years. 

* * *

A/N: Actually wrote this a few months ago. Was just too lazy to type it. 

iNsAnEbEl: Aww you didn't like the hamster essay? Whyyyy? Haha um just kidding. :) Heh, I'm bored during Maths lessons too. I pity my Maths teacher actually. Only 3 people in my class passed the most recent test (and I was one of them! Woo!). And a lot of us still have not handed in our summation assignment, which was supposed to be handed in before the test. I haven't actually done it... bwahahahahahahahahaha. 

lambie: 'Rather lame'? Uh, I'd say very lame... =) Ok that's lame. Thanks. 

KISS is the best: Yah yah yah kiss my ass lah. 

kaesaku: Hey! Thanks for stopping by. Heh sorry it isn't yaoi but yeah, couldn't make myself turn it yaoi. But it would be nice, wouldn't it? A RuMit... mmmmmmm. Thanks again for the reviews. 

sLL: Hey, you're back! Yay! *throws balloons in air* You ever going to continue your Mitsui story? You better. I want to read it. Anyway no I don't watch Samurai X. The story and the timeslot don't appeal to me. But um... my brother watches it though! That baka watches just about any crap on the telly. Anyway yeah thanks for the reviews too. Really appreciate it. =) 

Hate to say this but the next update would probably take place after another hundred years. Nowadays there's something wrong with my brains. I can't write the way I used to. (I'm serious.) Oh well, whatever. We'll see how things go. 

Have a nice day. 

-Yelen   


  



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